


The Real Hustle Life

by nakajeems



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Changkyun is a chronic bullshitter, Comedy, Con Artists, Crimes & Criminals, Ensemble Cast, Everyone is a Con Man, Heist, Humor, I mean... They have to scam someone, I really mean every one, I've been watching the Great Pretender as you can see, Kihyun wants the world and everything in it, M/M, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Original Character(s), Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, we will get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakajeems/pseuds/nakajeems
Summary: Im Changkyun thinks he’s the best con man in Seoul.Until he is conned by Yoo Kihyun.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 37
Kudos: 63





	1. Mr Sandman

**Author's Note:**

> im in the mood for some literal changki bullshit crime comedy. M rating is less for actual smut and more for sexual humour. Also some violence... just a little bit.
> 
> while this is primarily changki, i want to give everyone ample screen time depending on the confidence game, because i really do love a chaotic gang of bandits with very questionable allegiances, and im an absolute sucker for an ensemble cast. ✌️
> 
> thank you for indulging in my great pretender AU which i have retrofitted to my emotional support kpop boys. bonus points if you spot the references. also if at any point you read this and thought what is this bs. yes, thank u that is the point.
> 
> technically all fanfic is self indulgent but this is probably the most self indulgent of my self indulgences.
> 
>  ~~this is like 50% fix it fic but i didnt want to write GP fic 50% me and my dumb jokes, you feel me~~  
> 
> 
> best,  
> n

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> intro: the beginnings of changkyun’s life in the oncoming traffic.

Changkyun opens his eyes to see the ceiling above him. He cautiously feels the surface he is lying on, it is soft and smooth to the touch, some kind of high quality silk. It seems he has been here for at least several hours now, judging by how it’s the clearly the middle of the day. The room shifts into focus as he pushes himself up on his elbows, it’s oblong shaped, decorated with shelves of handmade teapots, very expressive paintings of animals and for some reason a skeleton in the corner with a stuffed bird on its bony shoulder.  
  
“Fuck,” he says to himself as the feeling of dread sweeps across his whole being. “Not this shit again.” Changkyun looks down at his body; still dressed in the same outfit as yesterday but covered in dust, even his shoes are still on, the brushed leather oxfords that Kihyun had picked out for him just when this whole charade was starting to get messy. Whoever put him on the bed had literally just picked him up after he passed out and left him on top of the covers. Not even on a pillow, no wonder his neck is so sore.  
  
He checks his hands and feet. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Check and check. So far so good. Given the rather dramatic turn of events in his life, he feels like he should be more severely injured in some form, Changkyun has gotten worse injuries from less after all, but it seems that he has gotten away with just minor scrapes and bruises. There’s a particularly big bruise on his hip that he only feels when he rolls over to his side. How did that happen?  
  
Changkyun gets off the bed and peers out the balcony, a wisp of wind blows through his hair, making the suffocating humidity slightly more bearable as the afternoon sun sears his skin. He appears to be in some sort of villa, surrounded by coconut palms and massive trees dotted with yellow and red flowers. The balcony is lined with shrubs covered in curious red berries, and so Changkyun being Changkyun, picks one and takes a bite (After all, his life mantra is: you can eat everything _once_ ). After a few seconds, he recognizes it as a miracle fruit, the weird berries that make lemons taste sweet after you eat them. Changkyun had only heard of them from the random texts that his mother forwards to him from one of her alternative health group chats. On it’s own it really doesn’t taste like much and he kind of wishes there was a lemon nearby to test this theory.  
  
This would all be kind of nice, if he had any idea what was going on. The last time he checked he definitely was not on some tropical island. Changkyun remembers very little about what happened the previous day, only that there was complete pandemonium – everyone was panicking. At some point, he supposes, he was captured, which is likely how he ended up here. But his captors don’t seem to have any strong feelings about keeping him confined and if he tried hard enough (or at all, really) he could easily escape from this balcony.  
  
His ears pick up a soft roaring sound coming from his left. Curious, Changkyun goes back into the room to find the source of it, still chewing the miracle fruit. On the way, he waves to the skeleton and pets the stuffed bird, just because, and gets distracted by an abstract painting of some bears(?) dancing with melons.  
  
“Weird,” he thinks to himself.  
  
The roaring noise comes back and Changkyun remembers what he was supposed to be doing. It seems to be coming from behind a huge velvet curtain that covers a third of the south-facing wall. Investigative as ever, Changkyun slowly pulls back the curtain to see staring back at him with bejewelled blue eyes–  
  
“… A white tiger?” he says out loud, as if the tiger could understand him and verify his statement. _  
  
_He blinks twice, three times.  


_“_ … _Two white tigers?”  
  
_Behind the curtain is another room, where two young white tigers, both roughly the size of a toy poodle, are rolling about in a massive cage that could easily fit at least three Changkyuns. Inside the cage is water in a dog bowl, what looks like some kind of meat (or maybe cat food?) half eaten, presumably by the tigers, an assortment of toys and a cardboard box, because even big cats need a box to hide in sometimes. _  
_

This is a lot, almost too much. Changkyun has barely any time to process everything before the door creaks open and behind it, the face of a man he thought he would only see again in Hell.  


“Oh good, you’re awake.”

And Changkyun, honest to God, cannot help himself anymore.

“Where the fuck am I?”  
  
  


* * *

  
_  
_  
It’s safe to say that Changkyun is full of bullshit.  
  
Why does he do it? Well, why do people do anything ultimately? It is a necessary skill to navigate the perils of human existence. There is something very gratifying about spewing the most implausible nonsense with a confident puff of air and having people buy into it. Everyone does it from time to time, it’s just that Changkyun has elevated the status of bullshitting to a genuinely pure science.  
  
When Changkyun was six years old, he bullshat for the first time and it was a roaring success. He was living in Boston with his parents and one day they took him and his brother on a rare trip to the beach. His father gave them a dollar each to treat themselves with on this special beach day and Changkyun, being the impulsive six year old that he was, bought the first thing he saw: a bubble wand, you know the ones you dip into a bottle of liquid soap to blow bubbles with.  
  
Now Changkyun would have been pleased with said bubble wand, if his brother didn’t come back 20 minutes later with a whole _bubble gun_. And perhaps he has nostalgia goggles on, but the bubble gun was the most amazing toy that Changkyun had ever seen in his life, could shoot a million bubbles at a time, had a separate mode for lasers and could zap a thousand aliens like it was nothing. It was clearly superior to the bubble wand and Changkyun absolutely needed to have it, and so Changkyun went up to his father and pitifully asked for another dollar, to which he responded with a resounding “No.”  
  
Changkyun, with much help from a therapist, has since forgiven his father for his stinginess, but back then he was livid. What happened immediately after that incident is up for debate but it can be agreed upon that Changkyun went missing not too long later and after a while, some mild parental concern was voiced. “Where’s your brother? Right. Let’s all go look for him” and his family spent a good part of the next hour searching for Changkyun. Eventually they found him, grinning, topless and covered in sand, on the other end of the beach trying to sell a seashell to a grown man for ten dollars.

Being the determined little boy that he was, Changkyun had decided to take matters into his own hands. While his brother was out feeding stale french fries to seagulls, Changkyun was scouring the beach for treasures: an interesting looking shell, a funny little crab, a shiny rock. He managed to hustle a total of twenty dollars for a couple of cool looking shells and weird little crabs, which was more than enough for a bubble gun _and_ an ice cream.  
  
Now obviously today you would not buy a fucking shell from a twenty-five year old man, but back then Changkyun was just a cute, entrepreneurial little boy. The whole walk back to the car, his brother was covered in sea slime and french fry grease while Changkyun was beaming like a smug little gremlin with his bubble gun in one tiny hand and a popsicle in the other.

Bullshit One. Life Zero.  
  
When Changkyun was fifteen years old, he was in a band, because of course he was. Sure, they weren’t exactly Coldplay, and despite the very enthusiastic praise from all three of their fans, Changkyun’s band simply wasn’t getting any attention whatsoever. Gigs were few and far between, the boys were getting desperate and restless. So that was when Changkyun came up with the grand idea of hiring Johnny June Namgoong.  
  
Now Johnny June Namgoong was a middle aged, gravel-voiced manager known to help bring local talents to the top. He also happened to be Changkyun and a cell phone. And it worked, five out of seven times. Venues were more willing to talk to bands who had representation, and so Changkyun got them representation, in the form of himself, doing a voice, after watching way too many Song Kang-ho movies.  
  
This would have good but of course, Changkyun had to take it one step too far when he booked them for a gig at a relatively big rehearsal space in his hometown of Gwangju. Apparently the bands appearing there had to pay an upfront fee to cover whatever ‘cost of putting on a gig’, like hiring security and staff and so on. But of course, Changkyun didn’t know that, because he was fifteen and stupid, so when the band showed up to play and the staff kept demanding remuneration and asking where Johnny June Namgoong was, Changkyun just shrugged indifference and said, “We just work with him, we don’t know where he is” as they desperately dialled the phone number that was buzzing away in his jeans pocket.  
  
But even after all the fuss, the staff let them play anyway. They got to put on a show, killed it (according to all three of their fans), and the venue staff even ended up apologizing to them for the confusion. “Sorry your manager let you down, boys!” All things considered, everything went brilliantly.

Bullshit Two. Life Zero.  
  
However as the years went by, Changkyun started to put a lid on most of his silly bullshit schemes. Perhaps it was maturity, perhaps it was a growing desire to be taken seriously, but for the rest of his teenage years and most of his early adulthood, Changkyun lived a relatively undistinguished bullshit-free life. He was going through the motions, working a job he didn’t really care for for people who didn’t really care for him. Life was okay at best, Changkyun was getting by but was by no means comfortable, living in a garden shed, everyday he gets emails, everyday he hears complaints, bills and debts were slowly piling up. Changkyun was, undeniably, tired of sucking capitalism’s dick.  
  
And then he met Kihyun.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It’s a wet day in Seoul, Changkyun doesn’t really enjoy working in cafés, but he has reasons to be here besides the free wifi. He usually works from home, or in his case, from his shed, but recently the shed has not been the most conducive of working environments. It’s not that he dislikes the shed, it’s not that bad for three out of the four seasons and Changkyun likes to think that he hopped on the tiny house trend before it became a whole architectural movement. But this all changed during a particularly bad thunderstorm last week when he came home to find his mattress practically aquaplaning. For days he slept on the concrete floor while his mattress was left out to dry and woke up every morning feeling like his bones were crumbling to dust. If there ever was a time when he felt every single one of the twenty-five years he has been alive for, this would be the time.  
  
But today is different. It’s not his usual kind of job, and it’s not the usual kind of client. Today Changkyun is here to meet someone from the internet who wants to buy his iPad. He made the listing three days ago, selling his brand new unopened iPad Pro at a 40% discount and this one man went straight into his DMs not even a minute after he put it up. “When can you meet? How does Thursday sound?” Well, to be frank Changkyun would have preferred for it to be sooner, but the man offered to pay Changkyun _extra,_ and he really needs to get his roof fixed as soon as possible since he’s not sure how long the duct tape is going to last for. Hence why, Changkyun is absentmindedly chewing on the straw of his iced Americano on a rainy Thursday morning, silently contemplating his life as he drums his fingers on one of the two boxes laid out on the table.  
  
“Hi, are you Changkyun? The guy who is selling the iPad?”  
  
A young man with bleached ash-blond hair stands in front of him and Changkyun snaps out of his daydream immediately. He is about as tall as Changkyun, with a light tan complexion and pointed nose.  
  
“Yeah! You must be Kihyun?” Changkyun says in his brightest salesperson voice.  
  
“Yes, that’s me,” Kihyun says smiling.  
  
“Do you mind waiting for a bit? I’m expecting someone else as well and he will be here any moment,” Changkyun adds quickly as he carefully rearranges the boxes on the table. “Just take care of everything all at once, y’know.”  
  
“Oh, um… sure” Kihyun says and takes a seat in the closest chair. He peeks at his watch quickly, it looks expensive. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”  
  
Changkyun smiles at him and pulls out his phone quickly to check for any incoming messages. They sit in silence for a few minutes just looking at their phones. Changkyun has to admit, this one is easy on the eyes. Too bad he’s the mark.  
  
“Hey, hey! Sorry I’m late. It’s raining so heavily!” a man dressed in a well-worn jacket and ripped jeans shows up to their table. He looks a bit shabby, a mildly shady character. Changkyun can tell that Kihyun is unimpressed. “There was no parking anywhere, my friend had to drop me off, he’s just waiting for me in an alleyway a couple streets away… Changkyun right?”  
  
Changkyun smiles brilliantly and offers him a seat. “You must be Jooheon!”  
  
“Yeah,” he says, breathless. Jooheon is drenched, he really does look like he was running in the rain for a little bit.  
  
Everyone who needs to be at this table is already here, and so it’s show time. Changkyun clears his throat and looks at both of them. “Right, so I have these two iPads here that I got as a gift from work, but I don’t really need them, so I’m just selling them off for cheap. I believe this model goes for 1,200,000 won or so? Do you want to take a look?”  
  
He offers one of boxes the Kihyun who takes it and very carefully slides across the seal with his fingernail and lifts the lid.  
  
Sure enough, it’s a brand new iPad. All accessories, wires, everything perfectly wrapped, untouched since it was sealed off at the factory. Kihyun seems pleased with the product and nods at Changkyun before setting it back on the table.  
  
“They are exactly the same, aren’t they,” Kihyun asks.  
  
“Oh yes, the warranty information is right here and everything,” Changkyun says, beaming. “Yeah, so you can just give me the 800,000 won.”  
  
Kihyun reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a small stack of cash and gives it to Changkyun. “Here you go.”  
  
“Thanks,” Changkyun takes the money from him and counts the notes before carefully putting them into an envelope and depositing it in his jacket. Everything looks great so far, but Jooheon however, still seems dissatisfied, restless even.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Jooheon shakes his head, “Um, I actually don’t know much about computers, so do you mind if I could just show this to my buddy who is outside? He’s good with this sort of thing. Just let him look over it or whatever, make sure it’s legit and stuff.”  
  
A short pause.  
  
“Outside?” Changkyun raises an eyebrow.  
  
“Yeah just outside, it’ll take like two minutes.”  
  
“Can’t he come in?” asks Kihyun.  
  
“No, he can’t, he can’t leave the car,” Jooheon insists.  
  
Changkyun and Kihyun exchange looks. Changkyun drops his shoulders and sighs.  
  
“Well, okay. Sure, but um… hey” Changkyun looks at Kihyun and pulls out the envelope full of cash that Kihyun gave him earlier and whispers to him, “Do you mind holding onto this for me? I don’t want to carry this much cash in some random alleyway, you know what I mean.”  
  
“Not at all,” Kihyun says politely as he takes the envelope from Changkyun’s hands.  
  
So far so good. This is all going according to plan. Changkyun smiles at him as he takes one of the iPad boxes on the table and gets up to leave with Jooheon. “Thanks,” he says, waving to Kihyun. “See you in a bit.”  
  
“See you soon,” Kihyun also grinning.  
  
All in a day’s work. Like taking candy from a baby.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Hey there, Seoul's best con man ,” Jooheon wiggles his eyebrows at Changkyun as he walks out of the café.  
  
“Fuck off, You’re just as shady as I am _,_ ” Changkyun laughs. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”Jooheon says innocently. “I’ve managed to make it to the worthwhile age of twenty-six by generally keeping myself out of trouble.”  
  
Changkyun grins and playfully punches Jooheon's arm as they walk into the subway station to head back to the shed. It’s not far from where they are right now, only two stops away. Changkyun is feeling pretty good about his haul. This is the third time he’s managed to pull off this same iPad scheme this month and he isn’t retiring it just yet.  
  
On most days, Changkyun makes a living writing fake reviews for restaurants. It’s tedious and he only gets paid 10,000 won per review, but several months into the job, Changkyun realized that the general climate of misinformation combined with society’s willingness to believe absolute bullshit provided opportunities that he hadn’t considered in the past, and one of them was performing confidence tricks.  
  
As much as he fantasizes about being the protagonist of a Hollywood blockbuster, his life is nothing like the heavily edited heist movies starring George Clooney. His scams are all relatively small, slight-of-hand type tricks that he performs on tourists and people he would likely never see again. Not exactly his first choice of career, but drastic measures needed to be taken to supplement his rapidly declining income in this hellhole of an economy. So Changkyun spends whatever daydream hours he has left after writing nonsense restaurant reviews thinking up schemes. Somewhat.  
  
It’s not always great, but it does help keep a (partial) roof over his head.  
  
“That wasn’t half bad though, not gonna lie,” Jooheon says as they walk up the concrete stairs that lead up to Changkyun’s shed.  
  
“He even wanted to pay me more, can you believe it?” laughs Changkyun, practically skipping with glee as he opens the door. “The trick is to let them see the product, they are more willing to handover the money that way.”  
  
“I bet he lost it when he saw the box was empty and thought to himself, ‘at least I have this cash with me’,” Jooheon says smirking. “Probably didn’t realize he was being scammed until at least a good ten minutes after we left.”  
  
They enter the shed. Thankfully this time, Changkyun’s mattress is dry, and all his things seem to be in working order. Nothing looks fried. All power outlets look safe to use. The shoddy duct-tape waterproofing method seems to have worked for now.  
  
“I’m glad the rain stopped,” Jooheon looks at his watch quickly. “It was pretty heavy. I think it went on for 4 hours?”  
  
Changkyun’s eyes dart towards Jooheon’s wrist as he pulls off his jacket and throws it onto the mattress,. “Nice watch, Jooheon,” he observes. It looks very familiar, he’s quite sure he’s seen it somewhere.  
  
“Thanks. A gift from the boss-man,” Jooheon says as he flashes his three-time employee of the month winning smile at him, dimples and all.  
  
“Is your boss-man hiring?” groans Changkyun. “Could use some income right about now. The fake review business is slow.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry I put in a good word for you,” Jooheon assures him. “I’m sure you’ll hear something soon.”  
  
Changkyun sighs and sinks into his mattress “Today was fun. We don’t get to do this very much anymore since you started that new job.”  
  
“Yeah, but at least when it happens it’s always a good time,” Jooheon says as he pulls out the only chair in the shed and throws his jacket over it. “I mean Tuesday was pretty wild, I was very surprised that the last guy actually bought out your entire stock of instant ramen.”  
  
The last time Jooheon and Changkyun pulled off a scheme together their mark was a doe-eyed babyfaced man in a bodybuilder’ body. At first he had this rather intimidating presence and Changkyun was almost positive that he was involved in some kind of underworld organized crime. He turned out to be such a gullible tool, gushing over Jooheon’s cats the moment Jooheon mentioned them and showed him picures, and their doubts were soon cleared. Throughout the whole process Changkyun felt like he was like watching a rabbit fall prey to a wolf, it was invigorating and he couldn’t look away. They managed to get a hefty sum out of the muscle bunny as they both call him, it was almost too easy.  
  
“I thought I was going to be caught for half a second,” confesses Changkyun, his arms splayed out on the mattress. “Really thought muscle bunny saw through me.”  
  
“He did look kinda shady though,” agrees Jooheon.  
  
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore does it?” Changkyun sniggers as he searches his jacket pocket for the envelope of money that Kihyun had given him earlier.  
  
“I felt kind of bad actually, he really wanted those noodles,” pouts Jooheon.  
  
“It’s good he took them from us because we don’t need that shit anymore,” laughs Changkyun as he holds up the envelope. “Tonight we dine like kings– ”  
  
A short pause. Changkyun’s smile slowly fades away as he opens the envelope.  
  
“What’s going on,” Jooheon utters flatly.  
  
“I…”  
  
Changkyun pulls out a stack of newspaper from the envelope and stares at it in disbelief. This is the envelope with that Kihyun was supposed get, which means the one with cash–  
  
“You didn’t switch them did you?” snaps Jooheon.  
  
“No. Of course not. I wouldn’t fuck up like that!”  
  
“Then how–”  
  
“That bastard, he scammed me,” hisses Changkyun. “How–”  
  
“Check the iPad,” Jooheon says as he picks up the box.  
  
Changkyun quickly snatches it from Jooheon and peels apart the packaging of the box that he brought back. He hisses. It’s the dummy, the one filled with worthless cardboard that Kihyun was also supposed to go home with. Changkyun stands there staring at the empty box feeling incredibly stupid.  
  
“Wow, he really got you.”  
  
“Shit,” Changkyun lets out an exasperated growl and hurls the box to the floor, running his fingers through his hair as he tries to figure out where his plan went wrong.  
  
“How did he–”  
  
Changkyun looks at the box, and then at Jooheon, and then back to the box, trying to analyze his movements, Jooheon’s movements, Kihyun’s movements, what was on the table, the café floor plan, his iced Americano, anything, everything. How did he switch the envelopes? When did he swap the boxes? Changkyun’s mind is buzzing with confusion, fried from the inside as he tries to put the pieces together.  
  
Jooheon shakes his head and moves towards the window to give Changkyun a bit more breathing room, but soon stops in his tracks.  
  
“Hey, Changkyun”  
  
“Yeah?” he mumbles, brows furrowed, still very deep in thought.  
  
“I think you better take a look at this…” Jooheon says softly as he points outside the window.  
  
Changkyun snaps out of it and his eyes dart to where Jooheon is pointing. Oh great, it’s the guy from the previous scheme, the babyfaced muscle bunny, now with a whole entourage of equally huge muscle men, each looking more intimidating than the previous one, all of them full-fledged prime grade beef that could easily crush Changkyun in one hand like a overripe tomato. They are all crowded around a black SUV at the base of the concrete staircase, far enough for them not to notice the shed, but close enough that Changkyun can see that muscle bunny is not smiling.  
  
“Something tells me he isn’t too happy about the trick you pulled on him.” Jooheon gulps.  
  
One of the men points towards Changkyun’s shed and says something and muscle bunny looks up directly in the window. Changkyun feels an uncomfortable churn in his gut and could have sworn that muscle bunny looked directly into his eyes all the way from the bottom of the stairs.  
  
“Oh shit, Changkyun. They are heading this way, he really was a mob guy…”  
  
“Fuck my life, today is the worst,” groans Changkyun and he grabs his backpack.  
  
“I’ll stall them,” Jooheon says quickly. “Go. Get out.”  
  
For once, Changkyun is grateful for the tiny size of his shed and shoves whatever valuables he can find into his backpack: his passport, his IDs, credit cards, whatever cash he still has left…. He packs quickly, knowing the controlled chaos in this space too well. Changkyun can sense Jooheon’s nervous energy, throwing him several worried looks as Changkyun zips up his backpack and throws it over his shoulder. If he’s going to fly the coop, now is as good a time as any.  
  
“Well, Jooheonie, it was nice knowing you. Gotta scram before they get me.” he says with a playful lilt in his voice.  
  
“Let me know when you’re safe,” Jooheon says as he continues to observe the men through the front window before turning back quickly to Changkyun and shooing him away. “Go. It’s clear right now”

“You’ll hear from me,” Changkyun assures him as he clambers out the back window. “Bye!”

Changkyun falls to the grass with a soft thud and crawls towards that loose panel in the fence that only he and Jooheon know about, gently pulling it aside to make sure that it hasn’t been fixed. As he squeezes through the opening that separates his shed and the neighbour’s, he hears a hard knock on the shed door.  
  
“Oh shit oh shit oh shit” he can practically hear Jooheon mumble to himself, trying to calm himself down as he opens the door. Jooheon has always been such a great friend and Changkyun really owes him this time, but first he needs to make sure he can actually get back to him.  
  
He bolts across the road like an Olympic runner at the start gun, narrowly missing oncoming traffic as he weaves in between the cars. Half an hour ago, Changkyun would have balked at the idea of running, but at this very moment, he relishes it, savours it. Changkyun is not exactly a free-running master, his experience is limited to eluding from dim-witted bullies, but he knows how to lose someone in the chaotic maze that is his neighbourhood. These streets were haphazardly slapped together before people even knew what city planning was and Changkyun fully intends to use this mayhem to his advantage.  
  
“I see him!”  
  
And so he runs, runs like he has never run before, feet barely kissing the floor. Changkyun always thought that when he finally fulfills his life purpose as the protagonist in a high stakes chase scene, it would heroic, sexy even, running swift like he was coursing through the wind, but being chased in real life is nothing like it is in the movies. His hot and nervous breath came in small spurts, his tan fingers balled into fists, swinging forward with the momentum of his body. Changkyun could feel his heart throbbing in his chest, steady and strong with every step. He slips, nearly tumbling over onto the wet floor, if it happens one more time he’s done for.  
  
“He’s here!”  
  
A quick glance over his shoulder tells Changkyun more than he needs to know. He sees the silhouettes of at least three men about thirty metres away from where he’s standing and it’s time to go full turbo mode. Changkyun slides into another narrow alleyway and hoists himself over a particularly tall fence using a garbage can as leverage, kicking it in the direction of his pursuers just before he hops off. Big, burly men like that aren’t nearly as flexible as he is, their movements are stiff and cut through the urban fabric like blunt shears. They stumble, and Changkyun turns sharply into another lane, knocking aside any furniture in his way to stall them as he sprints in the direction of the main road like some frenzied stray cat.  
  
It seems to have worked for now, he can hardly hear any echoes of clambering over metal bins or plastic garden chairs as he reaches the end of the alley. The main road is right in front of him, there are more places to hide here. Changykyun’s heart is pounding in his ears, his rasping throat parched as he drops down into a squat and tries to catch his breath for just a moment.  
  
And then Changkyun sees him.  
  
The motherfucker who scammed him, all five feet and nine inches of Kihyun, just casually buying dalgona from a street vendor in broad daylight like some nostalgia-ridden tourist. Changkyun can feel his blood boiling as he watches Kihyun pay (with _Changkyun’s money_ ) for what looks like an obscene amount of dalgona, packing it neatly into an open suitcase and then just casually hails a cab, like he isn’t some weirdo by the street with a suitcase filled with far more candy than is appropriate for any grown man to have. Who but a child murderer carries that much candy on him? What a freak. A cab stops right in front of Kihyun and he lifts his suitcase into the open trunk, still completely cool and calm, oblivious to Changkyun’s presence across the street. Changkyun exhales sharply as he watches Kihyun close the trunk and walk to the passenger seat. This bastard is not getting away.  
  
He slips out of the alley and dashes across the main road, nearly knocking down a couple of dazed looking old ladies on his way. He’s lucky there isn’t any oncoming traffic and it doesn’t seem like Kihyun noticed Changkyun running towards him from 10 metres away just yet. Kihyun is still moving so calmly as he opens the passenger door and slides into the cab, but just as he closes the door on his side, Changkyun slams his palms on the trunk of the cab, yanks the passenger door on the opposite side open with whatever force he has left, slides into the back seat next to Kihyun like the slippery eel that he is and blurts out to a very confused looking cab driver, “I’m going where he’s going.”  
  
The startled cab driver looks at the both of them over his shoulder and turns towards Kihyun. “You know this guy?”  
  
Kihyun nods and says to the cab driver, “Terminal 2 of Incheon Airport, please” and then turns his attention to Changkyun, that smug smile that he had on earlier is even wider than it was at the café, “We meet again.”  
  
The driver shakes his head and starts the car.  
  
“I see we are in the same line of work,” Changkyun hisses, spreading his legs awkwardly in the backseat. “You took my iPad.”  
  
Kihyun shrugs, hands folded neatly on his lap. “I mean I bought it from you.”  
  
The nerve of this man, Changkyun can feel his pulse in his ears, he’s like a viper ready to strike. “That would be the case, if you didn’t take my money as well.”  
  
“You were the one who gave it to me saying you didn’t want to carry that much cash in an alleyway,” Kihyun laughs softly, now looking directly at him, his eyes are very narrow and dark.  
  
“Well, I need it back,” Changkyun snorts. “I can’t fly anywhere if I have no money while you’re out there flexing your new iPad.”

Kihyun is eyeing him from head to foot with great curiosity, like he had just unearthed some kind of weird new sea creature. Changkyun feels uncomfortably exposed, he imagines this how the little crabs that he dug out of the sand when he was six years old felt just before he sold them off for toys and ice cream.  
  
“Sounds like you need a job,” Kihyun says. “Would you like to work for me? I’m looking for someone to help me out.”  
  
“What would a scammer like yourself need help with, you seem to be doing just fine running the show on your own,” Changkyun glares back at him.  
  
Kihyun huffs, now drumming his fingers on his lap. “I’m just a businessman looking for someone who can help convince a potential buyer.”  
  
“Sounds simple enough,” says Changkyun.  
  
“It’s very simple. Like selling candy to a child.” Kihyun reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out one of the dalgona that he bought from the street vendor and offers it to Changkyun.  
  
“Perfect, and after I do that, I get the rest of the day off?” Changkyun laughs.  
  
“Well that depends if you can close the deal,” Kihyun says, eyes still very focused on him.

Changkyun bites his lip and shifts his gaze towards the candy in Kihyun’s hand. He takes it, muttering a short “thanks” to which Kihyun acknowledges with a small nod before they both turn away to look out the windows and admire the view of the city. For a few long minutes they sit in silence and watch the city streets turn into expressways, not so much as a peep between them.  
  
“How about a wager?” Changkyun suggests as he twirls the stick of candy between his fingers. From the corner of his eye he can see Kihyun perk up just slightly at the mention of the word ‘wager’.

“Whatever it is the amount you’re selling for, I’ll double it, and if they take my offer, you come work for me.”  
  
Kihyun’s eyes flash and he sits up a little straighter, turning his attention back to Changkyun. “Sure, but if I win, you have to become my assistant.”  
  
“Deal.”  
  
They shake hands. Changkyun thinks he must be quite mad, shaking on a deal that he literally knows nothing about aside from Kihyun’s very vague comment about selling candy, but no risk no reward, right? Kihyun seems to be very enthusiastic about this sudden proposal, he’s staring out the window again, drumming his fingers on his lap and looking very pleased with himself and Changkyun cannot wait to wipe that smug smile off his face.  
  
“So Incheon, huh? Where are we headed?”  
  
A short pause. Kihyun turns back to him and asks, “How good is your English?”  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this!
> 
> ck's background inspired by an excerpt from how to "How To Bullsh*t Your Way To Number 1: An Unorthodox Guide To 21st Century Success."
> 
> let me know if you have any thoughts, id love to hear them. c:


	2. Money, Money, Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first scheme: may the best (con) man win

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is 100% meant to be about having fun, please don’t take anything seriously. i mean, its supposed to be humour… or maybe its secretly a commentary on the kpop industry, idfk. 🤷
> 
> once again. a few easter eggs and references sprinkled throughout! also other kpop randos because why not? we’re all just here for a good time.
> 
> cheers,  
> n
> 
>   
> **WARNING: (somewhat questionable, but still there) DEPICTIONS OF DRUG USE/ DRUG TRAFFICKING, ALSO MENTIONS OF GANGS/GUN VIOLENCE. it’s literally the whole chapter. but it’s all fake, conducted by a bunch of phoneys, because they are all a bunch of phoney fake ass con men.**

The moment they reached Incheon Airport, Kihyun (or rather Changkyun, indirectly) paid for their ride and they both scurried off into terminal. In the cab, Changkyun told Kihyun that he spoke English reasonably well and that he lived in the United States for a short while during his childhood to which Kihyun responded with a single approving nod. The rest of the 40 minute drive to Incheon, neither of them said a word to each other, both just stared out the windows, occasionally shifting aside awkwardly if their knees so much as touched each other whenever one of them got too relaxed with his posture.  
  
At the airport, Kihyun seems to have found his voice again. He asks Changkyun if he had any food before they left and it’s only then that Changkyun realizes that he hasn’t eaten anything since that coffee at the café this morning. So Kihyun buys them both some steamed buns and they both eat silently, chewing until the bread tastes too sweet in their mouths. Just as they are finishing their food, Kihyun brings Changkyun’s attention to the board listing all the departing flights for the day:  
  
Leaving at 5.45pm, a Korean Air flight to London Heathrow Airport. The most English of all English speaking places.  
  
At the check in counter, Changkyun scrambles whatever money he has left to get himself on that flight to Heathrow with Kihyun, who is waiting patiently beside him with his boarding pass. But the moment they go through airport security, Kihyun vanishes into thin air, leaving a very lost and confused Changkyun behind to find the gate and board the plane by himself.  
  
And so Changkyun was left alone in coach with all the other peasants, squished in between two particularly huge ladies whose arms each took up a third of his seat, leaving him with a pathetic third of a whole seat despite the outrageous last minute price tag of his ticket. The whole flight, Changkyun was wide awake, awkwardly bumping into his neighbours with every movement he makes, intentional or otherwise, watching in-flight movies that he would never actually watch in theatres while munching on complimentary peanuts and funny tasting pasta that was reheated in an airplane convection oven. For the entire 12 hour flight Kihyun was nowhere to be seen, only to reappear before Changkyun’s eyes right after he cleared immigration.

Why London? What’s going on there during this time of year? Maybe they are going to Wimbledon. It’s a common betting ground after all. Changkyun knows nothing about tennis but it’s not like that is going to stop him. Perhaps something more subdued, he picks up a flyer at the arrivals terminal about London tourist attractions and sees that there is some kind of flower show going on. That seems nice, but he can’t figure out why on earth Kihyun would drag him halfway across the world to sell candy to a bunch of garden enthusiasts, maybe flower people are easier to swindle.

In fact, Kihyun still hasn’t mentioned _anything_ about their mark. What is he trying to do? Test Changkyun’s ability to ad lib? Changkyun is good at doing things on the fly but _some_ preparation still needs to be in order. He doesn’t even know how much money is involved. Why is Kihyun so tight-lipped about the whole situation? Why is he–

“Hey! Focus on me!”  
  
Changkyun feels a hard _flick_ on his forehead this stings straight into his skull.  
  
“Ow!” he cries pitifully, rubbing the tender spot with his fingers.  
  
“We’re leaving, I just got the keys for the rental car,” Kihyun says, twirling the car keys in his hand.  
  
He looks well rested enough, the dark shadows beneath his narrow eyes somewhatdiminished. Changkyun can’t say the same for himself, his have probably gotten worse.  
  
They find the car, a silver Mercedes Benz (apparently all the cars here are manual transmission), and place their luggage in the trunk. Kihyun types the address of their next destination into the maps app on his phone and starts the engine with Changkyun in the passenger seat playing the role of navigator.  
  
This is Changkyun’s first time in Europe and he doesn’t really know what to expect. There isn’t much to see scenery wise, their flight landed at 10pm and according to Maps they won’t reach their final destination of the day until midnight. So Changkyun just stares out into the darkness at the dusty highways and crumbling old buildings, thinking about his plan of attack.  
  
“How old are you?” Changkyun demands, breaking the silence.  
  
“Grown”  
  
“You can’t be more than 5 years older than me, I’m sure of it.”  
  
Kihyun purses his lips but doesn’t reply.  
  
“Where are you from?”  
  
“Anywhere.”  
  
“You speak Korean.”  
  
“ _Yeah, sure._ I’m Korean. And I can speak Korean.”  
  
“Which part of Korea?”  
  
“What is this, an interrogation? Are you really supposed to be the best con man in Seoul?” Kihyun laughs, eyes still very much fixed on the road.  
  
“Is that a title that you would prefer to have instead?” Changkyun says, arms crossed.  
  
“When the whole world is at my disposal?”  
  
True that, this man is no petty thief, agreeing to this scheme means there’s no turning back, Changkyun might as well be a full fledged international man of fraud now, he should just sound the alarm and give his details to Interpol while he’s at it, warn them about his upcoming life of crime even though he hasn’t even done anything significant just yet. He continues to glare at Kihyun in disapproval, but Kihyun doesn't seem to notice Changkyun trying to kill him with his nonexistent laser vision, and simply continues to subtly-not-so-subtly fondle the gearshift whenever they stop in traffic.  
  
After a few minutes of driving in silence, Kihyun's hand (finally) moves away from the gearshift and he fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station. They fight through radio static for half a minute and eventually settle on a news channel.  
  
_Fashion designer Carmine Vongola, who was released on a 1 million pound bail last week, is set to debut his latest showcase–  
_  
“Vongola,” Kihyun says. “Curious name, it’s Italian for clam.”  
  
“ _You_ look like a clam,” mutters Changkyun under his breath.  
  
“What?”  
  
“What?”  
  
Kihyun’s looks over to Changkyun for a short moment but then he turns to the front again and he continues, “He inherited his luxury fashion company from his late father several years ago, tried to turn it onto some kind of weird crossover streetwear brand. His debut showcase was actually quite decent, but he’s more well known for his incredible after parties at London Fashion Week.”  
  
Fashion Week. With his bleached ash-blond hair, sharp cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes, Kihyun definitely looks like he belongs at Fashion Week.  
  
“He even has his own airport. I mean, Who has that?” Kihyun continues, exasperated. “But he’s a fashion designer in name only, in reality he’s pretty much a mafioso.”  
  
“That’s our man of the hour.”  
  
They soon arrive at their destination: a Jacobean era building in Mayfair Village called The Connaught, a luxury hotel with a long history of attracting the rich and famous in search of privacy. After parking the car, Kihyun leads him towards their suite, a split-level contemporary townhouse with an open plan living space. Changkyun has never stayed at a place like this before, The living room has built-in cupboards and shelves filled with art books. Tucked in the corner is a full size concert grand piano and in between two fuel-effect fireplaces is the biggest flatscreen TVChangkyun has ever seen. The entire suite is connected to the main hotel via with a secret passageway. Apparently there is even a 24 hour butler service. How very James Bond. Changkyun has never felt more like a peasant.  
  
Sitting at the dining table is a man with frazzled light brown hair and prominent dark shadows beneath his eyes on his otherwise youthful face. He’s slightly hunched over and fully focused on the screen as he types aggressively at his laptop. Around him, piles and piles of different types of paper.  
  
“I’m back,” Kihyun says loudly. The man waves, but is otherwise motionless.  
  
“We got started without you,” he says, eyes still fixed on the screen.  
  
“That’s fine, I expected it,” Kihyun nods, and then points to the direction of the bedrooms. “Changkyun, your room is over there.”  
  
“Oh. Okay”  
  
The man stops typing, looks up at the both of them and blinks, one eye slightly out of sync with the other.  
  
“What did you pick off the street this time?” he cries at Kihyun. Changkyun feels an odd twinge in his stomach.  
  
“Minhyuk, Changkyun. Changkyun, Minhyuk,” Kihyun gestures towards the both of them.  
  
“Hi,” Changkyun lifts his hand up in a greeting.  
  
“Hello,” Minhyuk smiles sweetly Changkyun and then turns to hiss at Kihyun through gritted teeth. “Kihyun, I swear to God, we are in the middle of–”  
  
“Calm down. He’s here to help us out with the scheme.”  
  
Minhyuk closes his eyes for a few seconds and takes a deep breath. His expression changes, now cheerful and warm. “Nice to meet you, Changkyun.”  
  
“Likewise,” Changkyun says, flashing a tight-lipped smile.  
  
“Is he your doctor?” Minhyuk asks Kihyun, eyes now back on the screen, fingers typing away.  
  
“Came highly recommend by the honey bee himself.”  
  
“Oh, okay then.”  
  
“I knew you would approve.”  
  
“I’d risk it all for that egg,” Minhyuk sighs, pressing his face down into his palms.  
  
Changkyun blinks, not entirely sure what to make of that conversation, maybe he’s just tired and cannot form coherent thoughts.  
  
“Well since you’re here, a certain turtle told me that Vongola is at home later tomorrow, or I suppose, later this afternoon – good lord, what time is it – Anyway, he says you should drop by,” Minhyuk adds, blinking his tiredness away.  
  
“Okay, that’s still on schedule right?”  
  
Minhyuk nods, now clicking away with the mouse.  
  
“Great, well. We’ve had a long flight, so we should be going to bed soon. Changkyun, we’re getting up early in the morning before we get down to business because we need to take care of… whatever it is you’re currently wearing,” Kihyun scrunches his nose and eyes him from top to toe disapprovingly.  
  
It’s only then that Changkyun realizes he’s been in the same sweatpants for more than twenty four hours. Considering how he does have a deal to beat, it would be difficult to convince a potential buyer to pay twice the amount Kihyun is asking for if he shows up looking like he doesn’t have access to a shower and he certainly isn’t going to be winning any wagers with his current getup.  
  
“Yeah, fair enough.”  
  
He politely excuses himself and retreats to the bedroom, dragging his backpack behind him on as he climbs up the stairs, leaving Minhyuk and Kihyun in the dining area to discuss the details of their upcoming plan.  
  
It’s marvellous. Just as beautiful as the rest of the suite. The ensuite bathroom features an egg pod bath, all finished in Italian marble, with twin blue onyx basins and a separate walk in rain shower. The bedroom itself has a wooden feature wall and the second biggest flatscreen TV Changkyun has ever seen. Everything is perfect and expensive. Luxury robes and slippers. Leather lounge chairs. A king sized bed.  
  
Kihyun hears an exasperated growl coming from the bedroom.  
  
“What does he want now”  
  
Minhyuk gives Kihyun a look that means _This is your problem, not mine_ and returns to his screen, and Kihyun just sighs and goes into the bedroom to see Changkyun sulking miserably in a leather lounge chair.  
  
“There’s only one bed,” he whines.  
  
“Well, Minhyuk is a kicker, the other guy snores and I am the most motionless of the lot. So take your pick,” Kihyun says flatly.  
  
Changkyun drops his head in defeat and mumbles a soft “fine” and gets up to throw his backpack onto the nearby sofa and then jumps onto the bed. From the corner of his eye, he sees Kihyun’s eyes narrow disapprovingly at the disarray, like he’s itching to pick up the backpack and set it aside neatly.  
  
“I don’t–”  
  
“I won't touch you without your permission,” Kihyun assures him and turns around to leave the room. “Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

Changkyun looks at him and is about to say something but as soon as his head touches the pillow, he is out like a light.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Kihyun was not kidding when he said he was motionless. Changkyun didn’t even realize that he was sleeping next to someone the whole night. Or maybe it was the jet lag. Either way, it was one of the most restful sleeps of his life and Changkyun could feel all his bones reset into their rightful places. It was rejuvenating, like he was reborn into this new world, fresh and ready to start his brand new life as a full-time fraud. When Changkyun wakes up, Kihyun’s side of the bed is already empty. In fact, his side of the bed is _made_.   
  
“Never be untidy,” Kihyun says over breakfast the next morning as he pokes Changkyun’s dimpled cheek. “This is one of the absolute basics of our profession. You know this, Changkyun.”  
  
For breakfast they get room service, just the three of them. There is a fourth person who is a part of their crew but Changkyun was told that he would meet them later. All of the documents that were spread across the dining table the previous evening were packed up and was now replaced with a bakery basket, cereals and fresh fruit. Minhyuk is still in his pyjamas, his light brown hair sticking up in every direction, bangs clipped away awkwardly in a style befitting that of a rich old woman’s Pomeranian. Kihyun on the other hand, looks perfectly polished and ready to go, his hair is already brushed and styled, wearing a charcoal grey suit that is clearly tailored to his measurements. And then there’s Changkyun in whatever the fuck sweatpants he was wearing yesterday.  
  
“What are all the papers for?” Changkyun asks Minhyuk, who is looking over his notes from last night at the breakfast table.  
  
“Forgery,” Minhyuk says, nonchalant, like he’s just talking about science homework. “That's my job here. I mostly do documents these days, but I forge just about anything that needs to be forged. Wine bottles, packing labels, whatever. You name it. I’ve probably done it before.”  
  
“Oh,” Changkyun says, fascinated eyes shining as he takes a sip of his orange juice.

Minhyuk nods. “I work behind the scenes most of the time, but occasionally I do go on the frontline. Like today, I’m here to watch your debut performance.”  
  
Changkyun spits his orange juice back into the glass.

“Minhyuk is pretty good at reading people as well,” Kihyun says, eyes fixed on his phone.  
  
“I get by,” Minhyuk smiles at the compliment. “What about you, Changkyun? Do you have any special interests?”  
  
“Hmm…” Changkyun wants to say _I’m pretty good at bullshitting._ But that’s probably not the answer Minhyuk would like to hear.  
  
“I’m still figuring it out,” he says instead and Minhyuk seems satisfied with that.  
  
“Oh yes, we all are, definitely,” Minhyuk agrees, nodding encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll do fine today, though.”  
  
“You just need to look scholarly,” Kihyun adds.  
  
Scholarly. Changkyun is many things, but scholarly, that’s a new one. Nothing about Changkyun’s current outfit consisting of over-sized t-shirt, sweatpants and tennis shoes is anywhere close to scholarly. Maybe more like miserable, debt-ridden student, which is a kind of scholar, but far from the tenured full time professor look.  
  
After about half an hour, Minhyuk finally manages to clean up, put on his own navy pinstripe suit and tame his wild Pomeranian hair into something more presentable and they head off to take Changkyun from pauper to haute couture. They scrub him clean and wax his eyebrows, surprisingly painless. Minhyuk even helps to style his hair, sweeping his thick, black locks to the side and sealing everything in place with hairspray. A dab of concealer and lip tint, and he is good to go. Their first stop is some high end department store in Knightsbridge where Changkyun imagines people like Emma Watson go for tea and scones with the likes of Meghan Markle or whatever it is high society British people do.  
  
All black seems to be the theme of the day. Kihyun picks out a pair of brushed leather oxfords for him, very shiny and sleek. Changkyun attempts to flex his toes in the stiff new leather and he can already feel several blisters forming on his tender feet despite the thick socks he is wearing. They also pick up a black cashmere suit for him, something timeless and sophisticated, (“Why do you look so much better than I do in this?” Changkyun demands when Minhyuk tries it on just for fun) and a pair of retro browline frames for that vintage academic look.  
  
“The backpack stays,” Changkyun insists. It’s his most prized personal possession, or rather his only possession. Kihyun couldn’t be bothered to argue about how out of place his Herschel backpack looks with the rest of his outfit. Maybe he can go for the “trendy hipster professor” vibe.  
  
For the final touch, they go to some fancy jewelry store Changkyun doesn’t recognize. “We are here to pick up a watch,” Kihyun shows something on his phone to the shop assistant and Changkyun is quickly presented with a gorgeous timepiece. It's made of rose gold, turquoise, diamond and other precious stones on a midnight blue face, all held together with a black alligator leather strap. Changkyun is too afraid to ask how much it costs, but he’s very sure it’s more than he can ever earn at his day job, or ever, really.  
  
“Aww, we match!” Minhyuk says joyfully pointing to his wrist.  


“You do clean up quite well,” Kihyun says with an approving nod, and slides his hand over Changkyun's chest to fix his pocket square.  
  
Changkyun takes a look at his final full outfit in the mirror, unable to recognize himself for half a second. He looks like he’s dressed to get funding for the most important grant proposal of his life, which in a way, he is.  
  
After they are done shopping, they hop back into the car to head out to Vongola’s luxury penthouse. It’s hard to imagine what it would look like. If this guy can own an airport, surely his penthouse must be the stuff of dreams. Does he have a pool? Probably has a pool. Maybe an indoor skating rink? An apothecary? That sounds like something he would have to be quite honest.  
  
“Some people just have really weird taste, you’ll see,” Minhyuk tells him.  
  
Apparently the skyscrapers in London all have nicknames. Minhyuk mentions this during their drive, something he learned when he was out sightseeing a few days ago. (I had to do _something_ , when you were gone, Kihyun)

Several minutes of bustling around in London traffic later, Changkyun sees it. It’s not the tallest tower in the area, but it’s pretty close. The building is modern, all external glass, contrasting sharply with the surrounding historic architecture. There is a weird structure sticking out of the roof which Minhyuk informs him is the Olympic sized swimming pool that cantilevers into the London skyline, an oddly phallic detail.

“What’s this one’s nickname?” Changkyun asks.  
  
“What do you think?” Minhyuk replies slyly.  
  
The moment they enter the lobby they are greeted by a rather intimidating looking doorman and another equally intimidating gentleman, likely some kind of security staff, who is a good foot taller than Changkyun. Kihyun doesn’t seem to be affected by this difference in size, confident as ever, he just greets everyone with a overly cheerful, “Good afternoon!”  
  
“Good afternoon Mr. Yoo. Mr. Vongola will meet you upstairs, Lazarus will bring you to him,” the doorman informs them.  
  
He shows them to a private elevator that leads straight to the penthouse and the three of them enter with Lazarus. It’s overwhelming, the elevator, everything is gilded in gold and polished to a mirror finish. Changkyun feels like he just walked into Scrooge McDuck’s money vault.  
  
“Why does everyone look like a mafioso?” Changkyun whispers to Minhyuk.  
  
“Because they are all mafiosos,” Minhyuk gives Changkyun a small wink.  
  
The elevator doors open directly into the penthouse and all five of Changkyun’s senses are attacked all at once.

The whole penthouse seems to be a recreation of an early 20th century stag movie furnished with replica Art Nouveau furniture all gilded in endless, endless gold. Some things in here _almost_ work, the Aubrey Beardsley posters on the walls would actually be quite nice if they were not sacrilegiously framed in macaroni like a child’s arts and crafts project. There’s even a stupid Supreme brick looking very out of place on a pedestal in the centre of the entry like some kind of high art sculpture. A weird song in a language that Changkyun doesn’t understand is playing in the background, but he cannot hate on their taste in music given his own personal musical history. His nose, seemingly left out of the whole experience, reports a whiff of rotting cashews. The ground seems to be covered in feathers and sticky fake(?) blood, like a flock of birds was just murdered here fifteen minutes ago. Is it a satanic cult thing? A sex thing? Some kind of bizarre internet challenge? Who’s to say.  
  
“How much are you planning to get out of this?” Changkyun whispers to Kihyun as they exit the elevator.  
  
“Five.”  


“Five hundred? That’s a bit much–”  
  
“No. Five million.”  
  
“What?” _  
  
_“Pounds Sterling”  
  
_“What??”  
_  
Changkyun’s eyes go huge and he hisses through gritted teeth, “Are you fucking insane, that’s more than 7 billion won. Nobody is going to pay that much for _candy._ ”  
  
“They will when they see what this does,” Kihyun replies with a gentle smile. “The game starts _now_.”  
  
Changkyun glares at him and wants to say more, but is shut up quickly by the close presence of several rather intimidating looking body guards. The one they call Lazarus is particularly menacing looking with multiple tattoos all over his arms and none of them look like art tattoos.  
  
They enter the outdoor pool area, the one that extends out into the sky, and they see the man of the hour himself. Vongola seems to be preparing for his showcase at Fashion Week. About a dozen models are gathered around the pool, each one dressed in stranger clothes than the last one; all swirls of ersatz hair and fake tans and even more feathers and fake blood, who knows what is even real anymore.  
  
It’s camp. A strange aesthetic, expensive, artificial, potentially ugly and humorously extra; style at the expense of content. But not so much Lady Gaga’s take of camp, which is ironic but still within the range of tasteful, more like Katy Perry’s burger suit at the Met Gala kind of camp; straight up tacky. Even Changkyun and his limited design knowledge knows that there is more culture in a single serving of Yakult than this entire penthouse.  
  
Vongola is in his early 50s, a stout Italian man with thinning silver hair and a very tan complexion. He’s dressed in an electric pink shirt emblazoned with slogans that Changkyun can’t be bothered to read right now, paired with matching long trousers. Not entirely sure if he is the most or least “camp” of the lot.  
  
One of the models catches Changkyun’s attention. He hasn’t seen his face yet, but he can already tell this one is no ordinary bloke. He’s very tall, probably the most understated in terms of dressing, just a simple white tunic and khaki linen trousers, but he makes the whole outfit look so expensive. His perfectly coiffed dark cherry hair blowing just slightly in the wind and Vongola is apparently trying to style him with a feather boa.  
  
“No, no. It has to be real feathers,” Vongola insists. “It won’t work otherwise. Gisele Bündchen would _never_.”  


“Good afternoon, Mr. Vongola!” Kihyun says brightly. He’s like a whole different person, absolutely charming, looking almost dashing in his suit as he greets Vongola with a quick peck on each cheek, European-style. “Glad to see you are doing well.”  
  
“Mr. Yoo, I see you’ve brought Mr. Lee with you once more,” Vongola says as he shakes Minhyuk’s hand. His voice is deep and rough like high grit sandpaper. “I trust you both are here with good news.”  
  
“Oh, yes. I’ve also brought a very special someone for you to meet,” grins Kihyun as he gently pushes Changkyun to the front. “This is Dr. Im, whose brainchild is your next great endeavour.”  
  
“Of course,” Vongola nods. “The man who synthesized this Dalgona Sparkle you speak so highly of.”  
  
Changkyun flashes him a tight-lipped smile, leans forward and nervously shakes his hand.  
  
“He seems quite young for someone so learned,” Vongola says, now examining Changkyun with utmost interest.  
  
“Ah, the woes of peaking too early. Child prodigies are only exceptional while they are children, it’s only a matter of time before everyone catches up to them,” Kihyun says  woefully, shaking his head. “Dr. Im’s pharmacology research seems to have suffered because of this as well. It’s difficult to be taken seriously when your academic peers are all at least a decade ahead of you in life experience.”  
  
Drugs? _Drugs?_ Fuck, this is bad, Changkyun doesn’t do drugs. The closest he has ever gotten to that was eating a pot brownie when he was at some random house party during his university days. That proved to be a bigger mistake than he had anticipated because for the next twenty four hours, he was intensely paranoid, nervous, sometimes even floating. But it turns out there wasn’t any actual weed in there, it was just an insanely good brownie.

“But Dr. Im is quite rebellious. He’s kind of a bad boy in his field,” Minhyuk adds.

“Oh really?”  
  
“Yes, he’s quite the young thug of the pharmacology world,” grins Kihyun. “If drugs was a religion, then Dr. Im Changkyun constantly _sins_.”  
  
Minhyuk’s eyes sparkle at this statement, he looks like he’s holding back a laugh.  
  
“Allow me to demonstrate,” says Kihyun as he fishes a small packet of suspicious looking white powder out of his pocket.  
  
“This is the raw product, but if you snort it just like that you’ll be pushing daisies before you can say ‘Fashion’. That’s why we have to process it–”  
  
“Processing?” Vongola says, a note skepticism in his deep voice.  
  
“Yes,” Minhyuk adds solemnly. “A necessary step to lessen the risk of overdose.”  
  
“I don’t know how I’m going to convince people to buy something that looks so much like _candy._ ”  
  
“Maybe you’d like a sample?” Kihyun breaks off a piece of the dalgona and offers it to Vongola.  
  
He laughs loudly. “I’ll ask one of my models, I think they need it more than I do.”  
  
“Hyungwon!”  
  
The model that Changkyun saw earlier turns around. A tall, elegant man with incredible features, round eyes and soft, full lips; the complete opposite of Kihyun’s sharp, angular face.  
  
“My latest muse,” Vongola explains, beaming at Hyungwon. “Isn’t he lovely?”  
  
“Charming,” Kihyun smiles.  
  
“Stunning,” Minhyuk agrees.  
  
Hyungwon glides over and smiles politely at everyone. He really is gorgeous, very statuesque. His movements so graceful and poised, looking so light and delicate despite his tall frame. No wonder he’s Vongola’s current favourite.  
  
“You look like you need a pick me up,” Vongola says kindly, gesturing towards Kihyun.  
  
“Goodness, what’s this?” Hyungwon asks, his big dark eyes zooming into the dalgona in Kihyun’s hand.  
  
“Try it, a new way to keep alert,” Vongola smiles.  
  
Hyungwon shrugs, takes the candy from Kihyun and starts to chew on it a little bit. To Changkyun’s absolute horror he starts convulsing. He’s shaking, shivering, his round eyes bulging out of their sockets and he’s cackling like nothing Changkyun has never heard before. It’s terrifying to watch, Changkyun feels like his gut just dissolved itself, but Kihyun and Minhyuk seem to be completely unaffected by this extreme reaction, and Vongola seems very impressed.  
  
“Oof,” Hyungwon huffs after a minute or so, eyes watering, the heel of his palm lightly pressed against his forehead. “Where can I get some more of that?”  
  
“Potent isn’t it? The latest designer drug to come out of the Korean Peninsula,” Kihyun laughs. “All that pleasure and more from a single bite.”  
  
“Oh Carmine, these would be wonderful for the after party next week,” Hyungwon moans. “Discreet and elegant. Very trendy too. You’ve heard about the Internet challenges?”  
  
“I have to say that is quite a marketing tactic,” Vongola says.  
  
“One must be able to keep up with the trends,” Minhyuk nods.  
  
“What about you doctor? Have you tried it yourself?” Vongola asks Changkyun, who looks like he’s about to shit himself.  
  
“Oh, no. I shouldn’t–” Changkyun nervously declines.  
  
“Please.”  
  
“No, I–” Changkyun says, sweating slightly. “I won’t… I don’t make drugs. That's not...”  
  
A short pause.  
  
Oh. _Shit._  
  
“Don’t be shy,” Kihyun says calmly and he shoves the piece of candy in his hand into Changkyun’s mouth and out of pure reflex Changkyun gulps it down in one swallow. “Swallowing it whole provides an even more spectacular high.”

Shit. This is bad, very bad. The last thing Changkyun wants is to be labelled as a druggie and if this gets out, he will never, ever live this one down. People are going to start calling him to ask about his well being: family, friends, exes, acquaintances… Goodness knows what the hell is in this thing that Kihyun shoved down his throat. This is the end of his life as he knows it, it’s just going to be a downward spiral from here on out into the blackhole that is this frivolous existence. Next thing he knows, he’s going to start speedballing and living under a bridge in a broken tent with a dog that eats better than he does.

If eating the (fake) pot brownie caused him to float, then whatever this is is causing straight up euphoria. Changkyun feels like his mind’s eye is wide open, like his chakras have aligned, like Grandpa Joe when Charlie brought home the Golden Ticket. He can take on anything. Kihyun’s incessant sarcasm? No issue. Fuck that guy. Minhyuk’s playful teasing? Bring it on. Changkyun will wax his eyebrows with his bare hands as well. Whatever the hell this Hyungwon guy can do? Can’t be scared of it if he doesn’t know what it is.  
  
In his panic, he starts shrieking, crying, jumping around. Changkyun is wailing like a banshee. This is what people do when they are high right? They go fucking crazy? A sudden surge of energy kicks in and Changkyun feels light, almost divine, like he has summoned all his cosmic powers and dashes towards the lap pool screaming something incoherent, leaving Kihyun, Minhyuk, Hyungwon and even Vongola to stare in disbelief at him as he bounces around uncontrollably.  
  
“What the fuck,” Minhyuk mumbles as he watches Changkyun edging dangerously close to the end of the infinity pool.  
  
“Oh no, we have to stop him,” Kihyun says.  
  
But Hyungwon gently pushes Kihyun back and dashes towards Changkyun himself. Perhaps it’s the dalgona that gave him that extra burst of energy but he manages to catch up to him despite Changkyun running at full speed. Vongola watches in awe as Hyungwon, springs towards Changkyun and tackles him, subduing him with one swift uppercut, knocking Changkyun out like a light and he slumps to the ground like a sack of rice.

And then after this mayhem, Kihyun turns back to Vongola like it was all part of the plan, “So, Mr. Vongola, I’m willing to give you exclusive access to it all. The market value of a single case of a thousand is worth ten thousand pounds. And then there’s the doctor’s fee, startup costs and sole distribution rights, which brings it to a total of 5 million pounds? Cash of course.”

“Hmm, that’s quite the price,” Vongola nods slowly as he watches Hyungwon drag a knocked out Changkyun away from the pool back to where they are standing.  
  
“Well, it is quite the drug. It’s discreet, and as Hyungwon says, trendy. Inconspicuous. Barely even shows up in urine tests. If you have this at one of your Fashion Week parties next week, everyone will be clambering over each other to buy this from you, and who can make this? Only Dr. Im Changkyun, the darling of the Korean Society of Pharmacology!” Kihyun says in his brightest businessman voice.  
  
“What do you say?”  
  
“Yes… yes, alright, very good,” Vongola nods slowly.  
  
“May we borrow Hyungwon?” Minhyuk asks politely, hands folded neatly behind his back. “He seems to have that necessary touch to calm Dr. Im down. Poor thing, he’s such a nervous wreck, not used to being around so many people.”  
  
“Do as you like,” Vongola huffs as he walks back into the penthouse.  
  
  


* * *

“Wow, you sure do know how to make an impression”  
  
Changkyun opens his eyes to see Minhyuk standing above him. He’s back at their suite at the hotel, lying down on the couch, two more figures in the distance that he can’t quite make out.  
  
“You have great breath control,” Kihyun says, sounding almost impressed as he walks over. “Maybe you should be a singer.”  
  
“God. He was yelling so loud, I thought he were attempting to summon the Kraken,” scoffs a vaguely familiar third voice.  
  
Changkyun’s vision starts to clear and he sees the owner of the third voice. The tall model from earlier, Hyungwon.  
  
“I– I mean– you!” cries Changkyun, stunned.  
  
“What about me?” Hyungwon says.  
  
“You’re with–? Them? Us?” Changkyun says in awe, his eyes wider and rounder with every revelation.  
  
“Yes, I am,” Hyungwon says, waving languidly, his tone half annoyed half bored.

“But I thought–”

“It’s called acting,” Hyungwon rolls his eyes and does that loud cackle that he did at the penthouse while Changkyun just watches in confusion. “I thought you were acting too, and then you tried to jump off a 40 storey condo, and I was like ‘Oh fuck, this one is really going for it.’”

“Hyungwon went to school for acting, top of his class,” says Minhyuk proudly. “I didn’t go to university. Didn’t even finish high school, though I have sympathy for those who did.”  
  
“You used me? As your drug mule?” Changkyun glares at Kihyun, recalling the moment yesterday when Kihyun gave him one of the candies in the cab.  
  
“Calm down, Changkyun, there was no such thing,” Kihyun says softly.  
  
“The one thing I told myself I would never touch in a confidence game was drugs, _”_ Changkyun says furiously. _“_ Before I ate that shit, I was _pure_ –”  
  
“Oh, you mean this?” Kihyun casually pulls out a dalgona from his pocket and peels the wrapper off.  
  
“ _Exactly, I–_ ”  
  
Kihyun shoves the whole candy into Changkyun’s mouth so suddenly that it hits the back of his throat and he nearly gags.  
  
“How is it? Pretty good, right? A nice burnt toffee flavour?” Kihyun smiles at him.  
  
What the fuck is wrong with him? Changkyun sputters and spits the candy out of his mouth, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand and then realizes that his fingers are trembling slightly.

“Wow. Talk about placebo effect. Do you respond that strongly to all fake drugs or is it just this one?” Minhyuk asks bluntly.

Changkyun blinks. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“There’s no such thing as Dalgona Sparkle,” Hyungwon says coldly.  
  
“Rumours of a designer drug coming out from Korea have been floating around for years now, we’re just capitalizing on the whole event,” Kihyun shrugs as he lays back into the sofa.  
  
Changkyun stares at him. “Then why even bring me into the picture?”  
  
“Because Vongola wouldn’t get off my back about meeting the guy who synthesized it,” Kihyun explains. “And we couldn’t ask Minhyuk because he had already met him once.”  
  
“You should have asked your friend from Daegu. What was his name… Salt? Suga?” Minhyuk frowns at Kihyun.  
  
“Oh no, he’s very busy these days– ”

“Whatever, I’m done for now,” Hyungwon groans as he gets up. “I’m going to take a nap. None of you bother me until it’s time for dinner.”  
  
“Yes. Good job, today. Go to bed, you sleepy turtle,” Kihyun cheers sarcastically, pumping his fist in the air.  
  
Hyungwon casually flips Kihyun off as he walks back to his bedroom. “I want thirty percent of the final deal for all the shit you put me through, Yoo Kihyun!”

Kihyun just waves half-heartedly back at Hyungwon and then says to an absolutely horrified Changkyun. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry. He’s just tired. He did more running today than he ever has in his life.”   


After they hear Hyungwon's room door slam shut, Kihyun dusts his hands on his trousers and exhales sharply, “Anyway now that we’ve confirmed that Changkyun are still breathing and conscious, I’m going to get cleaned up. It’s been a long day and I’ll see all of you later.”  
  
And then he too leaves the room. Minhyuk lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes.

“Jooheon wasn’t kidding when he called you a loose cannon,” he says as soon as Kihyun is out of earshot.  
  
A moment's pause.  
  
“What?”  
  
“What,” Minhyuk looks back at him, eyebrows raised.  
  
“Say that again. But slowly,” Changkyun squints at him.  
  
“Jooheon? Your friend? The one who recommended you?” Minhyuk sounds tired. “I mean, technically Wonho warned us too–”  
  
“You know Jooheon?” Changkyun cries, his eyes going big and round. “Who the fuck is Wonho?”  
  
“The guy you scammed earlier this week. Remember him? Soft, babyfaced smile, big muscles?” Minhyuk flexes his arm in a poor mimicry of the muscle bunny. “The one who was chasing you down the street? He’s really not hard to miss…”  
  
“You guys are working together?” Changkyun feels his world crumbling down with every word coming out of Minhyuk’s mouth.  
  
“I believe the words Wonho used were ‘he is mostly bullshit, but he’s creative’ and ‘a little rough around the edges but it’s nothing that we cannot work with’,” Minhyuk says, making air quotes with his fingers.  
  
Changkyun gulps.  “What about the guys he was with? They weren’t in some sort of gang?”

“Oh, you mean Wonho’s gym friends? The only gang they are in is the Big Tiddie Gang.”

Changkyun slumps into the sofa.  
  
“Come on, Changkyun, you’re not that _dense_ ,” Minhyuk lifts up his left arm to show Changkyun his watch.  
  
Then he realizes. It’s the same as Jooheon’s watch. And Kihyun’s watch. And probably the same as Hyungwon and Wonho’s watches as well but he didn’t notice it at the time.  
  
And it is also the same watch that Kihyun gave him.  
  
“FUCK”

Good grief. Again with this piece of shit. Why does Kihyun keep doing this. Changkyun’s mind is buzzing once more with all these new revelations. He storms into the ensuite bathroom and yanks the shower door open, ignoring the blast of steam from the hot shower that is barely covering Kihyun's body.  
  
“Oh, Changkyun,” Kihyun says, unflinching, looking directly into his eyes as he stands very, very wet and very, very naked under the rain shower. “What a surprise. Care to join me?”  
  
“You set this up?” Changkyun hisses, maintaining eye contact as he points to the watch on his wrist.  
  
Kihyun seems taken aback by Changkyun’s question. “Isn’t it obvious?”  
  
“With Jooheon? And the muscle bunny? And his friends too?”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
“Even the cab driver?”  
  
“No, the cab driver was just a cab driver.”  
  
“Why me?” Changkyun whines.  
  
“You were the best one according to our scouts,” Kihyun answers with a shrug, breaking eye contact to squeeze shampoo into his hand.  
  
“But why even go through all the trouble to ask them? Why not just ask me directly like a normal person?” Changkyun cries, still glaring directly at Kihyun.  
  
“Did you learn to drive by reading the manual? No, of course not. You learn to drive by getting into a car and driving it. It would be easier to get you on board by jumping straight into the action.”  
  
Changkyun lets out a screech that sounds uncomfortably similar to a pterodactyl from Jurassic Park.  
  
Somewhere in the distance, they hear Hyungwon screech back, “What the fuck are you screaming about now?”  
  
Changkyun exhales sharply and slams the shower door shut.  
  
  


* * *

The rest of the day went by in relative silence. Hyungwon, true to his word, did not show up again until it was time to eat. After some heated discussion, they all agree on getting dinner in Chinatown, just to get out and stretch their legs a little bit.  
  
It’s hard to tell what anyone is really thinking. On a positive note, everything seems to be moving according to plan, despite Changkyun’s sudden declaration earlier that day that he “doesn’t make drugs”, everyone seems relatively calm and quiet, no particular alarm bells ringing. Processing everything all at once has proven to be rather draining for Changkyun, who has been quietly mulling over all the new information he received. He was so distracted he didn't even realize that they were done with dinner until Minhyuk poked him in the cheek just as they were about to leave.   


“I know Carmine Vongola’s most well known for his fashion label, but to be honest all he does is pump out garbage. He’s kind of a joke in the world of high fashion despite what he may think, more famous for his hedonistic lifestyle than his actual work,” Kihyun explains once everyone has settled down in the living area of the hotel suite.

“His real trade is drug trafficking, Vongola has the whole of London in his hands, just about all the contraband that you can get in this city goes through him first. The drug channels here used to be run primarily by urban street gangs but he bought over them and they all work for him now. That guy, Lazarus? His body guard? He’s a former gang leader.”  
  
“Cocaine in particular is still very popular in the fashion industry. Up until a few years ago, molly was also a thing, but it has since fallen out of favour. And Vongola's hands are in it all, he's been dictating the whole scene here, controlling what goes in and out of fashion, so to speak.”  
  
“He's just a despicable human in general, not just because of the drugs. He lures all pretty young talents to his side with the promise of glitz and glamour, but they either end up as junkies or his sex slaves. All those models you saw at his penthouse? They all go down the same path. Once I was at a party, they were literally passing around a chalice with cocaine in it for anyone who wants it, it was quite the scene,” Hyungwon frowns.  
  
“Every so often they pin him down for something like tax evasion, but he always springs back like a mushroom after the rain. Pays off every judge, every cop, every jury. There isn't anywhere his money doesn't reach here. He’s basically untouchable in this part of the world and anyone who betrays him is given a one way ticket to Heaven,” Minhyuk says, pressing a finger gun to his temple.  
  
“It’ll never work.”  
  
They all look up at Changkyun.  
  
“No way. Absolutely no way in hell this will work, no grown man is stupid enough to fall for a scheme like this,” Changkyun frowns.  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“Of course! He’ll see through it immediately, he’ll see the truth–”  
  
“Just because it’s in front of you, doesn’t mean it’s the truth. And just because it’s the truth, doesn’t mean people will believe it,” Kihyun says quietly.  
  
“What do you mean,” Changkyun asks, narrowing his eyes.  
  
“People don’t want to believe the truth. They want to believe the thing that is closest to their interpretation of the truth,” Kihyun explains darkly.  
  
“So you’re selling an illusion,” Changkyun says, arms crossed as he leans back into the sofa.  
  
“Aren’t we all? We are capitalizing on people’s ideals, that’s just our job,” Kihyun smiles. “And right now our job is to make Carmine Vongola’s dreams come true and then take him out for everything he has.”  
  
A moment’s pause.  
  
“We’re all going to die, aren’t we,” Changkyun frowns.  
  
“Everyone has to die someday,” Minhyuk says softly as he shrugs one shoulder. “Ideally not in a back alley with a gun to your head, but you know it’s going to happen.”  
  
Hyungwon stifles a small laugh.  
  
Kihyun sighs and gets up from the sofa. “Anyway, it all worked out. The deal is still going through and we’re going back to Vongola’s tomorrow afternoon to close everything off. Five million pounds to split between us should be plenty.”  
  
“I win this time, Changkyun. Keep in mind, being my assistant is not an easy job. Goodnight, all of you,” Kihyun smiles as he gently places a hand on Changkyun’s shoulder and then retreats to the bedroom.  
  
“I’m going to bed too,” Minhyuk says as he gets up from his lounge chair. “Hyungwon, what about you?”  
  
“In a minute,” Hyungwon says, arms folded, looking directly at Changkyun. “I have some things to take care of.”  
  
“Okay, don’t stay up too late,” says Minhyuk and he disappears into the room.  
  
Hyungwon doesn’t move from his spot in his chair, just stares quietly at the floor for a few minutes trying to gather his thoughts. He seems worried and tired, but despite the fact that his facial expression is calm, the look in his eyes is seething with ire.  


“Changkyun,” Hyungwon says very softly but firmly, like a warning. “I don’t know why Kihyun picked you of all people and honestly sometimes I feel all that man does is think with his dick.”  
  
“This is not one of your silly bullshit scams that you pull off on the street or whatever. If you’re not going to play the game, maybe it is best that you pack up and go home after all of this blows over. No hard feelings, of course. This life isn’t exactly for every one.”  
  
Changkyun shifts his gaze to the floor, unable to look Hyungwon in the eye. Hyungwon had poured his blood, sweat and tears into this scheme, probably more so than anyone else in this room. Who knows what he went through to get this far into Vongola’s inner circle without raising suspicion and he wasn’t going to put his life on the line for some stupid stray cat that Kihyun picked off the street.  
  
“If I leave now–”  
  
“Vongola isn’t going to let you go that easily now that he has you on his radar,” Hyungwon says coldly. “If you go to Heathrow right now, his men will be there waiting for you. You won’t be able to go anywhere without him getting to you first.”  
  
“I suggest you come with us quietly tomorrow to seal the deal, then we can all go our own way. After that, best of luck to you, Changkyun,” he says and walks back to his room, leaving Changkyun alone in the living room.  
  
Changkyun looks towards Minhyuk’s work table, a stack of notepads, some empty, some filled with messy handwritten notes. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and lets his mind go blank.

Maybe he isn’t cut out for this like Hyungwon said. Maybe this should have just remained a stupid side gig and he wasn’t meant for the high stakes hustle life. Changkyun has always been just nonsense after all, spewing farce wherever he went ever since he was a child. It was foolish to think that he could ever transcend that when it was so invariably imbued into his very core.  
  
What possessed him to think that he could win a wager against a confidence man of international stature? Did he actually think that he was going to convince a gang affiliated drug dealer to part with such a huge chunk of their net worth? All this time he thought he was fooling everyone around him into thinking he could do all these things, but who was he actually fooling? His bullshit was finally catching up to him. Changkyun sits on the sofa, thinking about every life decision he has ever made up to this point, but when he looks back on his life, he can think of nothing that he is truly proud of.

There isn’t much to pack. As Changkyun folds his clothes and stuffs them into his backpack, Hyungwon’s words keep ringing in his mind. He turns off all the lights and then picks up one of Minhyuk’s unused note pads, unsure if he should leave a note, but then decides to just leave it as it is. No explanation necessary. The rest of them should be asleep by now, they won’t hear him and so he stops to take in the moment and take in the breathless silence that fills the room.

It’s late, probably close to midnight, but there’s no point in checking anymore, no point in being here any longer than he needs to be. Changkyun’s eyes sweep across the suite one final time and he walks out the door.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“He’ll be back,” Minhyuk says the next morning at breakfast.  
  
“He won’t be back,” Hyungwon disagrees.  
  
“Maybe he just went out for a walk,” Minhyuk suggests. “Get some fresh air, you know? Get that heart pumping–”  
  
“Maybe he died,” Hyungwon says hopefully.  
  
Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “What the hell did you say to him last night?”

“Told him to either suck it up or fuck off.”  
  
“Well, whether or not he comes back, we still have to go and close the deal later this afternoon,” Kihyun sighs as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Let’s wait till noon.”  
  
They wait till noon.  
  
He doesn’t come back.  
  
It’s a rare sunny day in London and Kihyun was the first one to notice Changkyun’s absence. At first they really did think that he went out to enjoy the sunshine, but then they noticed that he had taken all of his belongings with him. A quick search around the hotel grounds heaved no results, the entire place was a Changkyun-free zone. Hyungwon seemed the most annoyed that Changkyun had left without so much as a goodbye, silently cursing under his breath as he scoured the place for any trace of him.  
  
But despite their best efforts, Changkyun was still nowhere to be found, and so they decide that their best course of action was to halt their search and go to the penthouse without him or risk being late, and so Kihyun, Minhyuk and Hyungwon put on their Sunday best and head back into the car to drive to the penthouse, going through security and up the private elevator just like they did the day before.  
  
They are escorted in by Vongola’s body guards, who direct them to an indoor putting green where they see Vongola having a game of mini golf with some of the models from yesterday. Kihyun walks up to him, his best businessman smile is on his face and palms gently pressed together in apology. “Mr. Vongola, I am so sorry about Dr. Im’s absence today but I assure you that –  
  
“What are you talking about? He’s right here,” Vongola says, brows furrowed.  
  
The three of them stop in their tracks. “What?”  
  
“The man upped the price on me,” Vongola says, gesturing for them to follow him. “10 million pounds.”  
  
They look at each other in shock. Kihyun’s narrow eyes go round and he adds quickly “Ah, my apologies, sir. That’s far too much–”  
  
“I told him I’ll take it,” Vongola says, nonchalant. “My money man is coming by later to finalize everything. You will stay for some tea, won’t you?”  
  
He slides open the door to the pool to reveal Changkyun, very alive, very awake, heart very much pumping, lounging by the pool by himself in a pair of Ray-Ban aviators and bright blue board shorts, wearing the cockiest grin on his face, holding what looks like a rather large mojito in his left hand.  
  
“ _What on earth is he doing,_ ” Kihyun mutters under his breath as they all storm towards Changkyun, leaving Vongola to go back to his game of mini golf.  
  
“Hello boys,” Changkyun smirks, raising the mojito glass as soon as he sees them. “Was wondering what time you would get here.”  
  
“What is all this?” Minhyuk blurts out, waving his arms frantically.  
  
Changkyun lifts up his sunglasses and puts his finger to his chin in mock thought. “Well, last night. I had an epiphany after a little chat with a certain turtle.”  
  
Minhyuk and Kihyun look towards Hyungwon, whose eyes widen in bewilderment.  
  
“I mean, this is the product of my entire life’s research after all. I’ve made so many sacrifices to get up to this point, and so I payed a little visit to Vongola to discuss an addendum to the deal,” Changkyun says.  
  
“Addendum,” Kihyun says slowly, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
“Yes, you see, for many years, I was slogging over a drug that was meant to lessen the pain for those who are terminally ill, but alas due to my youth and relative inexperience, my research was constantly dismissed,”Changkyun adds, shaking his head slowly. “I could not bear to let years of my work go to waste, and I knew that it could only be fully utilized in the hands of a capable person. So I sold it to him.”  
  
“Sold what, Changkyun?” Hyungwon asks, eyes narrowing as he places his hands on his hips.  
  
Changkyun, his grin growing wider and wider, reaches into his backpack and pulls out what looks like one of the notepads that Minhyuk left on the table yesterday, the pages now covered in Changkyun’s handwriting.

“The formula for Dalgona Sparkle,” Changkyun says, proudly holding the notepad up like it is some grade school show-and-tell object. “All the instructions on how to make it. I sold it, along with everything you offered yesterday. For a grand total of 10 million Pounds sterling.”  
  
“I win.”  
  
The three of them stare at Changkyun in dumbfounded silence. He did it, this son of a bitch doubled the deal. Kihyun’s eyes flash again with that same raw ardour he had in the cab to Incheon, glinting with something menacing, a small smile curling up on his lip.  
  
“Well now,” Kihyun says, breathless. Almost a whisper.  
  
“Oh,” Minhyuk exhales, his eyes gleaming.  
  
And Hyungwon breaks into the widest smile, “You’re so full of bullshit, you know that?”   
  
Changkyun just shrugs and sips his mojito. “Yeah, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you go for it, ck. prove to them that you deserve to sit at the big boy table.
> 
> also just to put it out there, i do not have a set schedule for updates at the moment. but i will do my best to maintain... some semblance of a schedule. oops.
> 
> lmk your thoughts! i'd love to hear them c:


	3. One Way or Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first scheme: fake it till you make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what it is.
> 
> tiredly,  
> n
> 
> **WARNING: ONCE AGAIN, MORE DRUG DEALING/SYNTHESIZING/COUNTERFEITING. but like i mentioned in the previous chapter. it is all fake, conducted by the same fake ass phoneys who are trying to pass off candy as cocaine.**

The room walls are painted a dull grey with floor to ceiling windows that are fitted with Venetian blinds. No air conditioning, this is a radiator country, which is particularly insufferable on a rare sunny day like today. Desks of computers, all in a state of half-organized clutter, take up most of the tiny space. Several telescopes are pressed against the windows, peeking through the blinds, all of them facing the same building: the penthouse with the cantilevered pool.  
  
“Do we have any leads on the new one?” A middle aged man peeks through the biggest telescope in the room as he munches on his boiled egg sandwich.  
  
“The one with the glasses? Nothing yet, Inspector Atkins.”  
  
“Wow, top tier people working in my team, that’s for sure,” the one they call Atkins grunts.  
  
“He seems to be with the other Asian man, the blond one,” one of the officers says. “They don’t seem to be doing anything right now. Just talking by the pool with the man with the light brown hair and one of the models.”  
  
Atkins just grunts into his food. “Sure, of course.”  
  
He’s been cooped up in this place for so long, there are only so many ways he can imagine murdering his incompetent subordinates. Sitting here with nothing to stare at but a penthouse with a pool was excruciatingly boring and pointless, Atkins is just counting the hours before he is able to go home.  
  
“I’ll get you this time for sure, Vongola.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  


_Several hours earlier  
  
_London at night is surprisingly chilly. The streets that hosted flocks of pigeons earlier that day are now empty and covered in a thin veil of fog. Red double decker buses swoop past Changkyun as he makes his way towards his next destination. He walks quickly down the road with single-minded purpose, ignoring all those around him while the evening air bites at his cheeks.  
  
Pretending to sell, interesting. Sure, Changkyun has strong feeling about ingesting drugs, but if he’s just pretending to sell, there’s no _real_ harm _,_ no _actual_ contraband involved on his part. Changkyun has no qualms about taking money from anyone, especially from rich folk, more so when their wealth came from such questionable means to begin with. But how is he going to do it? As he was looking over the notepads on the table, he was struck by inspiration. Of course! Counterfeiting! If Minhyuk can forge anything, he can give it a shot too.  
  
It’s time to get to work. Changkyun finds a 24 hour Internet cafe, a business he thought died out a long time ago, to begin his plan of attack. He works through the night, quietly researching drug processing methods, occasionally interspersed with clips of Breaking Bad to throw off any suspicions, scribbling page after page of notes in a notepad that he took from the suite until his eyes go blurry from fatigue. Then at last, after many, many hours, Changkyun, sleep deprived and running on fumes, puts on his suit, combs his hair, shoves his nonsense formula into his backpack and buys himself a bus ticket directly to Heathrow Airport to commence his plan.  
  
“ _Welp, here goes nothing_ ,” he says to himself as he gets off the bus.  
  
It’s close to 7am. Changkyun makes his way to the terminal, keeping his eyes peeled for any sudden movements. Just as he is approaching the entrance to the building, he sees a man approaching from the corner of his eye. It’s Lazarus, that one particularly menacing looking bodyguard.  
  
“Where do you think you’re going, Doctor?”  
  
Before he can respond, Changkyun feels a punch to his gut, knocking the air out of his lungs and he is hauled away in a Bugatti, all the way back to London, all the way back to that weird penthouse with the weird cantilevered pool. Throughout the journey back, he keeps his mouth shut as he rehearses the whole scene in his head.

And it’s showtime.  
  
“Why did you try to run away,” Vongola asks Changkyun once he’s settled down.  
  
“To be honest, I wanted out of the deal,” he replies, eyes downcast as he awkwardly twiddles his fingers.  
  
“Did you not make up your mind to sell?”  
  
Changkyun looks wistfully at the pool.

“I thought I didn’t care anymore,” he admits darkly. “I thought that I didn’t want to make such things anymore, but the moment I saw the effect it had on Hyungwon something in me woke up.”  
  
Vongola quirks an eyebrow.  
  
“I wanted to leave all of this behind me when I left Korea. All my life I was always surrounded by adults because of my abilities, but was never truly seen as one because of my age. When I found my calling in pharmacology, I focused all my efforts into creating a drug that could help ease the pain of the terminally ill."  
  
“But it turned out too potent and my research was instantly trashed. I felt that everything I had ever worked for fell through in that moment. The feelings of dismissal I experienced so much in my youth came back. I was told to abandon my project, but I had poured so many years of my life into this, how could I possibly do such a thing?”  
  
“Then, jealous colleagues started to notice the true potential of my creation. Someone I trusted even tried to take credit for my discovery. It was the first time I tasted betrayal. I learned in this world there is no loyalty, it’s eat or be eaten. But this isn’t something a person like you would understand.”  
  
“What do you know about me?” Vongola asks, his expression serious.  
  
“They say your work is trash, your company was handed over to you on a silver platter, your products are all counterfeits at best, and that it is all just a front for your actual trade of drug trafficking.”

“Have you ever seen any of my work?”  
  
“I haven’t, but that’s just what everyone says. I’m telling you what I hear,” Changkyun says, eyes now looking on the floor.  
  
“You truly are still are a child,” Vongola murmurs, his deep voice even deeper than before. “Let me show you something.”  
  
He motions for Changkyun to follow him and leads them into a room, covered floor to ceiling in some kind of velvet-like material. A personal museum dedicated to the absolute trashiest garments Changkyun has ever had the misfortune to come across.  
  
“Is this…?”  
  
“Some of my originals.”  
  
Changkyun takes a moment to explore the room, looking carefully at the garments on display before stopping in front of a particularly stupid looking pair of pants.  
  
“Mr. Vongola, _you_ started the movement of the clear fishnet trousers?” Changkyun’s eyes widen in awe.  
  
“Indeed.”  
  
“I had no idea, those trousers… They were my teenage years! Everyone who was anyone wore those.”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure. Countless knockoffs, all based off my creation.”  
  
“No… is that right? How could they discredit you for such an ingenious idea?” Changkyun gasps, horrified.  
  
“That’s just how it is. Fashion is all about creating trends that sell products. It’s not easy to protect designs because it’s not obvious that design promotes progress. Imitations are a dime a dozen, always been the case. It’s rarely about the love for it anymore.”  
  
“Please sir, the dry cleaning bag dress? The disposable chopstick wrapper trousers?”  
  
“All mine too.”  
  
Changkyun lets out a cry, “Incredible! Such innovation! Sir, you practically wrote the bible on how to dress for this millennium! Only someone whose passions align with their work could continuously create something so novel. How could you possibly do something that you do not love otherwise? This is art in its purest form!”  
  
The man is buying it. Changkyun can see the walls slowly coming down. He turns around to breathe in the atmosphere of the room, pretending to admire an exceptionally ugly silk throw.  
  
“Perhaps we are not so different after all,” he adds delicately.  
  
A few moments of silence and Vongola slowly cruises towards Changkyun, it’s now or never.  
  
“Dr. Im, I’m amazed by how much you understand me,” Vongola says solemnly. “ Dalgona Sparkle is a work of art in itself. I’d gladly pay your price for it.”  
  
Perfect. He’s in. “Even double it?” Changkyun asks.  
  
“10 million? Let’s not get carried away.”  
  
“This is my baby, my everything,” Changkyun looks directly at him, eyes shining with tears. “How much would you sell your own child for?”  
  
Vongola gives Changkyun a pensive look, and Changkyun knows it’s his cue to bring out the big guns.  
  
“How about this, I'll sweeten the deal for you,” he says, sniffling softly as he slowly pulls out the notepad from this backpack. “In this notepad I have all the instructions on how to make Dalgona Sparkle. With this formula, anyone can do it. I feel like entrusting this to you would be the correct step in this journey. Would that be enough for 10 million?”  
  
Hook, line and sinker. Vongola reaches forward to touch the notepad, but Changkyun gently moves it so that it is just out of reach. His watery eyes look directly at Vongola with such raw vulnerability, almost pleading.  
  
“10 million isn’t nearly enough for all of that.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Im Changkyun, you scoundrel,” Kihyun is grinning so hard, his cheek dimples are showing. Truly the sign of an unhinged mind. “This is everything I hoped for and more. What do you think, Minhyuk?”  
  
“He nearly fooled me,” Minhyuk nods, clearly impressed. “I’d give him 20 million.”  
  
“The part when you start crying about the pants, that was pretty good,” agrees Hyungwon.  
  
“I know right, what the fuck are those about?” Changkyun shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink.  
  
He’s not Seoul’s best con man for nothing. As satisfying as it is to watch Minhyuk and Hyungwon’s expressions go from confusion to astonishment, hearing Kihyun admit that Changkyun’s genius might run deeper than he had anticipated did wonders to Changkyun’s ego. He soaks in the praise. Honestly, Kihyun could stand to do this more often.  
  
“Of course, this formula is bullshit and will never work, but once I get my money that’s no longer my problem,” Changkyun says happily.  
  
“Oh, there’s the money man now,” Hyungwon points towards the sliding doors, and they all look towards the inside of the penthouse. A thin, older man just entered the space and is talking very hurriedly to Vongola.  
  
“Excellent. Of course, I will be taking half of it and you guys can split the rest of the 5 million among yourselves,” Changkyun smiles swirling the drink in his hands.  
  
“Hmm, yeah. I see someone. But it doesn’t look like he has any money with him,” Kihyun says and Changkyun’s smile drops into a scowl.  
  
“Be prepared to run if necessary.”  
  
One of the housekeepers rushes over to the pool to invite them back inside, so they follow her (Changkyun changes back into his suit) and are quickly seated at the dining room, along with Vongola, the money man and the bodyguard, Lazarus.

“My money minder, Peters, is a very careful man,” Vongola says. “Unfortunately, there will be no exchange happening at this point in time.”  
  
“ _We might have to call this one a draw_ ,” Kihyun whispers. Changkyun deflates just a little bit, but then Kihyun and his crew seem to have expected this, their expressions remain calm, even agreeable to Vongola’s statement.  
  
“Of course, 10 million is a lot of cash. Handling such a huge amount of money would make anybody nervous,” Kihyun nods gently.  
  
“Precisely, Mr. Yoo. I’m glad you see where I’m coming from. So I’m sure you will understand that before we commence any transaction, I still need to verify Dr. Im’s credentials, but no matter how much I searched online, I couldn’t find any reference to any Dr. Im Changkyun.”  
  
Changkyun’s mind goes blank. Oh fuck. How did he not think of this? People ask for a references for jobs at the convenience store that pay 10 bucks an hour, of course they would ask one for one that pays _10 million pounds.  
_  
“We would be glad to provide any references,” Minhyuk adds quickly.  
  
“That won’t be necessary, I’ve already asked my men to look into it and pay a visit to Dr. Im’s office,” Vongola says.  
  
Oh, fuck no. “Is that so?” Changkyun squeaks nervously.  
  
“Yes of course. I’m sure you understand that I am simply trying to gain a deeper understanding of the kind of person you are.”  
  
Shit. Changkyun is sweating bullets. Not even bullets anymore, the man is perspiring the whole Caspian Sea. Everything he has ever learned about breathing techniques goes out the window, replaced by a nasty cloud of dread, an all too familiar feeling ever since Yoo Kihyun stepped into his life.  
  
Suddenly, the phone rings.  
  
“Oh, that’ll be them,” Vongola says and answers the call. “I’ll put them on speaker”

This is bad, very bad. Changkyun feels his insides knot up like twine, everything his therapist taught him about breathing techniques suddenly vanishes from his memory. He looks towards Kihyun, and then to Minhyuk, and then to Hyungwon for directions, and they all have the look in their eyes that says _get ready to scram._ Changkyun tries to push his chair back to give himself more room to run when he needs to, but locks eyes with bodyguard, and he quickly pulls his chair back in again. It’s time to put those childhood Sunday school lessons to good use because the only one who can save him right now is Jesus.  
  
So he is definitely not prepared to hear the voice on the other end of the line.  
  
“ _Hello! This is Dr. Lee Jooheon, calling from the Korea University Pharmacology Research Centre in Seoul.”  
_  
And Changkyun nearly slams his face into the table.  
  
“ _I received your message regarding one of our researchers, Dr. Im Changkyun?”_

_“Dr. Im is on sabbatical now, so you won’t be able to speak to him. It’s rare that he manages to take time off, he’s one of the hardest working ones here! Isn’t that right, Hoseok?_ ”  
_  
“Oh, yes,”_ says a man with a slight lisp. _“His most recent project wasn’t so well received, and he’s been down in the dumps for a little bit, but Dr. Im is a tough one! I’m sure he’ll be back in the office working on the next great wonder drug in no time!”_

_“Dr. Lee Hoseok and I have been working with him for several years now,”_ Jooheon’s voice is still bright and cheery over the phone. _“Dr. Im is the youngest researcher we have here, but don’t let his age fool you! We are definitely expecting great things from him.”_

“Thank you.” and Vongola puts down the phone. “That covers it, then. Welcome to the Vongola Famiglia!” and before Changkyun can fully process anything that just happened, he is swept into a bear hug.

Holy mother of God, Jooheon really is Korean Jesus. Changkyun lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and quickly looks towards Kihyun once gain, whose just gives him a small smile. From the corner of his eye, sees Minhyuk and Hyungwon exchange looks for split second.

He’s cleared this unexpected hurdle. But as much as he would like to celebrate, there’s still the final transaction. Changkyun still needs to close the deal before he can even think about claiming victory and Kihyun is definitely not letting him forget that.  
  
“Now that we are all on the same page, Mr Vongola. We should discuss the subject of payment,” Kihyun says politely after everyone has settled down once more.  
  
“Yes,” Vongola nods. “But I still think we should make the exchange elsewhere,”  
  
“Excellent, sir. Doing it here didn’t sit right with me either,” agrees Kihyun, still smiling. Always smiling.  
  
“Oh, you see it too, don’t you?”  
  
“What? What are we supposed to be seeing?” Changkyun asks, blinking confusedly.

“If you look at the west window of this room, you will see that the top floor of that building is the perfect spot for the surveillance of this penthouse,” Minhyuk points out to him.  
  
“Of course, Mr. Lee. Nothing escapes you,” Vongola smiles. “The police have this stupid man named Atkins on my back and he’s been chasing me for years now.”  
  
“In that case, it would definitely be wiser to make the trade in a more secure location,” Kihyun nods seriously.  
  
“I agree. Lazarus, bring the car, please.”  
  
So they begin their move to this supposed “secure location”, gathering into a spacious 7 seater SUV with Kihyun and Changkyun in the back row, Hyungwon and Minhyuk in the middle, Vongola in the passenger seat and his bodyguard at the wheel. Vongola doesn’t tell them where they are going, but it’s mostly likely out of the city, all things considered. Sure enough, soon after they leave the car park, an unmarked Lexus is on their trail, following them closely.  
  
“Figures he would come after me,” hisses Vongola as he observes the Lexus in the rear view mirror.  
  
“Maybe he’s not so stupid after all,” Minhyuk says, his tone calm and even.

“Let’s give him something to do today.”

Surely Vongola must be mad if he’s thinking about starting anything in this traffic? They are in the middle of one of the busiest parts of the city, there must be so many security cameras at every street corner. Everywhere, they are surrounded by vehicles, but their car keeps speeding up even though they are in a 30 miles per hour zone, the speedometer keeps going, touching 40, soon it’ll be 50, maybe even more.  
  
“Do we get to be in a car chase?” Hyungwon says eagerly, eyes beaming.  
  
“For you, sweetheart? Anything,” Vongola smiles at Hyungwon.  
  
“Lose them.”  
  
Now Changkyun has been on plenty of roller coasters. In fact, he’s kind of famous among his friends for being able to keep his poker face on throughout the whole ride, having conquered Magic Mountain on multiple occasions. He’s the self declared roller coaster champion.  
  
But a car chase, is not a roller coaster. A car chase is much worse.

They sail into the busy traffic. Gaining speed as they continue to weave in between the cars. Changkyun watches the speedometer hand touch 50. Everything is just blurring out. Pedestrians and cyclists are flinging themselves out of the way of their rogue car as they zoom past them.  
  
The light turns red right up ahead. Changkyun looks over his shoulder and sees the Lexus gaining up on them.  
  
“Floor it.”  
  
Lazarus steps on the gas and they fly through the intersection. The other drivers break hard around them. Cars crash, rear ending. Sirens sounding. Changkyun is swearing. Minhyuk is screaming. Hyungwon is laughing. Wheels screeching. The scent of burnt rubber filling Changkyun’s nose and he feels his soul slowly seep out of his body through his mouth.  
  
“Hang on!”

The car spins 180 directly into the oncoming traffic. Wheels trailing smoke. This is like the worst game of Frogger. They continue to weave in and out. Cars crash some more. More sirens sounding. A truck heads directly towards them. Massive. Imposing. The glare from headlights blinds him. He’s about to be crushed. More swearing from Changkyun.  
  
“Hold on tight!”  
  
They hit 70 miles per hour, then 80. Maybe even 90 miles. Lazarus yanks the steering wheel. Their car soars upwards 90 degrees, wheels scraping across the body of the truck. More screaming from Minhyuk and Hyungwon. Even more swearing from Changkyun. Soon, after what feels like the most agonizing few seconds of his life, they fall flat to the ground with a heavy thud that rattles Changkyun’s skull.  
  
Lazarus makes a hard left at the last second, they swing back to their proper lane and Changkyun feels his soul sucked back into his body just as suddenly. They speed off in a plume of dirt and dust. More cursing, this time from Minhyuk. Hyungwon seems to be having the time of his life.  
  
“Shit!”  
  
The Lexus following them swerves out the way of the truck and rams straight into a lamp post, releasing the airbags, jets of dark smoke streaming out the flattened hood. Changkyun lets out a strangled whine, his eyes watering, hands shaking, legs turned to jelly.  
  
“Slick,” Kihyun whistles, He was quiet throughout the whole chase and is now looking over his shoulder at the wreck behind them as they drive further and further away while Changkyun dissolves into his seat, completely winded.  
  
“Nothing to worry about.” Vongola pulls out his phone to make a call. “Everything all right, Atkins?”  
  
_“Are you insane? I nearly fucking died,”_ says the voice on the phone.  
  
“Well, that’s what you get when you go all out,” he chirps.  
  
_“You know I had to, my men would catch on if I didn’t. I’ve ruined my best suit because of you.”_  
  
“Settle down. I’ll send you another bank wire so you can go get whatever the fuck it is you need,” Vongola sighs as he puts down the phone.  
  
“I see, so he comes when you call him,” Kihyun says, eyes gleaming.  
  
“How else would he be content to chase after you for so long without any results?” Hyungwon sings, still riding the high from earlier.  
  
Vongola laughs heartily. “You’re so smart, love,” he coos at Hyungwon, who just smiles soft, batting his eyelashes.

They continue to drive for what feels like an hour out of the city and Changkyun takes the time to recover from the chaos, keeping his eyes shut for the rest of the journey. Eventually they stop, but it’s too dark to make anything out from where he’s sitting at. He’s lost all feeling in his legs for real now, nearly toppling on top of Hyungwon when he stumbles out of the car.  
  
“A distillery?”  
  
“It used to be, but we don’t make spirits here anymore.”  
  
It’s a drug refinery. As they enter the red brick building, they see a whole production line: rows and rows of tables flanked by workers in masks and gloves packing bricks of narcotics into smaller packages with surgical precision, cutting the raw materials with other mysterious white powders. The entire space is bathed in a sterile white light. It’s eerily silent, besides the huffs and whistles of the equipment, and the whole scene is enough to make anyone feel uneasy.  
  
“My main operations,” Vongola says proudly.  
  
“I see, with a setup like this, you’ll be able to produce Dalgona Sparkle by the truckload,” Kihyun says, eagerly looking around the space.  
  
“Doctor, if you may, the formula.” he motions towards Changkyun who reaches into his backpack to pull out his notepad.  
  
“That won’t be necessary,” Vongola says coldly.  
  
A pause.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Vongola walks up to Changkyun, his shadow towering over him, even more sinister under the blinding fluorescent lights. “There used to be a famous Peking duck restaurant in Chinatown. Truly authentic, on par with the finest restaurants in Beijing. I was a regular customer, but several years ago, they had a new head chef, the taste of the food was completely different, absolutely unpalatable despite what they said about the recipes being passed down. It all just tasted like a cheap imitation.”  
  
“Dr Im, having a set of instructions isn’t what makes something authentic. If there isn’t someone who knows that they are doing conducting the whole procedure, the result would all just be worthless.”  
  
“What are you saying,” Changkyun nearly stammers, he can feel his heart hammering against his chest.  
  
Vongola smirks at him, looking at Changkyun like prey. “What I’m saying is, I want you to make Dalgona Sparkle for me. Right here, right now. In front of all of my people, so that you can teach them to make your creation.”  
  
Oh God. Changkyun can feel everyone’s eyes upon him. The dread from earlier creeps down his spine once more, wiring his jaw shut, filling his stomach with lead. He feels like cattle that is being sent on its final journey to the slaughterhouse. Changkyun’s mind flickers into overdrive, trying to come up with a response, any response that could buy him even just a little bit more time –  
  
“Dr. Im, are you okay?”  
  
Kihyun’s voice. Always Kihyun’s damn voice. Changkyun snaps out of it to glare at him and hiss through gritted teeth.  
  
“Hell no.”  
  
Kihyun’s eyes widen just slightly before narrowing into slits.  
  
“This– I cannot do this!” Changkyun shrieks as he swipes his finger across one of the tables and squints at the dust. “This is– I can’t make this here!”  
  
If there’s one thing that Changkyun knows how to do besides bullshit, it’s to cause a scene. He’s done it multiple times, intentional or otherwise. From the looks in their eyes, Kihyun and Minhyuk catch onto what he’s up to. The ball is at his feet now, the game isn’t over yet.  
  
“There’s no way I can produce anything of substantial quality in this distillery. The lighting is barely adequate, the equipment isn’t even properly maintained and there is hardly a proper ventilation system!” Changkyun cries, waving his arms frantically.  
  
It seems to be working. The workers all stop to see what the commotion is about while Changkyun stomps around the room like a deranged health inspector at a restaurant.  
  
“This simply won’t do. I’m used to working in an absolutely sterile environment. My lab in Seoul is akin to an operating theatre. If my drug is a work of art, then it should be treated as such.”

“What are you saying, doctor.”  
  
“I think what he’s saying is that he can only make this in his own lab, is that right?” Kihyun looks at Changkyun, eyes still very, very narrow.  
  
“Yes, absolutely. My lab. In Seoul. In the Republic of Korea.” Changkyun nods.  
  
“Ah, I see, I’m very sorry.” Vongola nods. “Very well, then. We will renovate the space.”  
  
What.  
  
“We will bring your lab to you. If that is what you need, then we will make a full replica of it right here in this building.”  
  
Changkyun’s face goes white as a sheet. Wait, no. What the fuck. That’s not what he meant.  
  
“I will call some of my people and we will commence renovations of the distillery first thing tomorrow morning.”  
  
Nope. Not even close. This is definitely not what Changkyun meant. Everything is spiralling again. Kihyun and Minhyuk exchange looks while Hyungwon’s eyes just widen ever so slightly.  
  
“In the meantime, doctor. I will arrange for you to live with my bodyguard until the renovations are complete.”  
  
_What._  
  
“You don’t need to do that. The hotel is just fine,” Changkyun says, his voice steady. “It’s perfect actually.”  
  
“Doctor, your comfort is my utmost priority. I can’t let such an important client such as yourself stay in a hotel.” Vongola smirks at him.  
  
“You may move to his quarters tonight and you will be under his care 24 hours a day. All expenses taken care of. Please don’t be shy to ask for anything.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The dull grey room walls are now bathed in an orange light, Venetian blinds on the floor to ceiling windows still tightly closed. Still no air conditioning, the telescopes face the same penthouse, that hasn’t changed at all since the afternoon, but the cluttered desks of computers are now occupied by entirely different people, led by a different man altogether. The man is looking through the surveillance footage, brows furrowed in concentration and doesn’t even react when Atkins and his team enter after their wild car chase earlier that evening.  
  
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” a still very disheveled Atkins says to the intruder.  
  
The man in charge turns around to look at him and smiles. “My job, since you clearly aren’t doing yours,” he says as he gets up from his seat and pulls out his badge. “Criminal Investigations Department, Chief Superintendent David Young.”  
  
“You mean _that_ David Young? From Scotland Yard?”  
  
“If by _that_ David Young, you mean the David Young who put Eddy Jovellanos behind bars? Or the one who took down the notorious Wallace Clan? Then yes, I am _that_ David Young,” the man says as he puts his badge away.  
  
He’s tall, taller than Atkins, with a golden-tan complexion, narrow eyes and full lips. An authoritative aura surrounds him, an almost ursine energy. Late twenties, fairly young for someone so accomplished, but not unheard of. This man is Scotland Yard’s blue ribbon bastard.  
  
“In light of your continued incompetence, I am assuming command of this operation,” Young says, eyeing the photographs displayed all over the cork board on the wall.

“This is the first time I’m hearing of such a thing. This has always been my case. And how dare you me incompetent–”  
  
“Oh really? If it’s not incompetence then perhaps it’s intentional? I am very curious how you paid for your vacation home in The Maldives and your daughter’s Ivy League tuition, but I suppose it’s pretty obvious once you put the pieces together,” Young quirks an eyebrow at Atkins, who goes red with rage.  
  
“So, Inspector Atkins. You have a choice, you can say goodbye to your job, your family and go to jail, or work under me and regain your pride as a detective. It’s your call,” he adds coolly.  
  
Atkins hisses at the man, but he doesn’t respond. A minute of tension filled silence, and then he reluctantly sighs. “Fine. I will cooperate.”

Young nods at him. “Glad to hear that. Now if we manage to get Vongola into custody, I’ll let you boys have that win. Our target is an international fraud ring – a con man by the name of Yoo Kihyun and his gang. I see he has a new one on his hands, the small black haired one with the glasses.”  
  
Young turns towards one of his men, who has occupied Atkin’s usual spot in the room. “My sources tell me they visited an abandoned distillery earlier today. I wonder how this place managed to evade investigation for so long. Care to share, Atkins?”  
  
Atkins remains silent, scowling at the man before him.  
  
“If there is going to be a transaction happening, this is the most likely place.” Young adds, pointing to the picture of the distillery on the cork board. “With this we can take down Vongola and Yoo Kihyun’s gang in one fell swoop. Now, how do we do this?”  
  
“We can send in a mole,” one of the staff mumbles.  
  
Not a bad idea. Young turns to Atkins, “Do you think your good friend could give you a tour of the facility then?”  
  
Atkins just glares daggers at him.  
  
“I guess if you won’t do it, then we’ll have to go with this guy,” Young walks up to the cork board and looks at the photo of a big nosed, black haired young man wearing glasses. 

* * *

The more time Changkyun spends with Kihyun, the more he feels that working with him is a bit like working with Willy Wonka: win against him and you take control of his whole operation, lose and you get trapped in his chocolate factory. As they dive deeper and deeper into this scheme, he realizes that there really isn’t a way out of it that doesn’t result with working with Kihyun in some form and Changkyun isn’t sure if he wants him as either a boss or an assistant. If he had known that entering that cab would have resulted in him overseeing the renovations of a drug refinery, maybe he would have considered getting beat up by a bunch of gym rats on the streets of Seoul. Hindsight is 2020 of course, which Changkyun is, sadly, all too aware of, but he still has to keep his eyes on the prize; there’s 10 million pounds at stake here.  
  
Life is just unpredictable like that, you never know what kind of last minute curve balls will be thrown at you. After their first visit to the drug refinery, Changkyun was shipped off to the bodyguard’s house. No detours. Did not pass go. Did not collect $200. Lazarus lives in a much more normal and simple building than Vongola’s weird penthouse: an old 2 storey townhouse with ivy creeping up the walls. He only said two things to Changkyun that night which was “You can sleep here” when he showed Changkyun where he would be staying in for the next few days and “Let me know if you need anything” before walking out of the room. Changkyun was given Lazarus’s bedroom while his host slept on the couch, which he felt a bit guilty about, but then again, it’s a one bedroom flat.  
  
The next day, he was taken back to the distillery to be pestered by the contractors who needed him to confirm layouts and floor plans. Kihyun and Hyungwon made an appearance as well, and Minhyuk’s voice was noticeably absent. Initially the renovations were supposed to take 2 weeks, but at Vongola’s insistence, was shortened to five days. Five miserable tension filled days.  
  
“Dr. Im. Where would you like the water purifier?” asks one of the contractors.  
  
“Here,” Changkyun points to some arbitrary spot on the plan and the contractor nods and goes off.  
  
It’s weird, being the man everyone goes to for instructions. Sometimes they go to Kihyun too, who appears to know a fair bit about laboratory layouts and equipment. At least, Changkyun can read floor plans, sort of.  
  
“Where is Minhyuk hyung?” he asks as soon as the contractors go off.  
  
“Oh, he has a rush job to take care of,” Kihyun shrugs casually. “Some last minute change of plans, you know how it goes here.”  
  
Changkyun hums, watching the workers install more equipment and gauges and whatever that he knows nothing about. Apparently all the equipment is German manufacture. Good to know, he supposes.  
  
“You don’t need to be here all the time, you know. After you've confirmed the layout, there really isn’t any point in staying,” Kihyun adds.

“And not supervise the renovation of my fake lab?” Changkyun murmurs as he watches more workers lift some very heavy looking beams around.  
  
“Replica lab.”  
  
Changkyun just rolls his eyes and looks away.  
  
“You should go have a little bit fun on Vongola’s dime, he said he would take care of everything you needed right?” Kihyun says and looks to where Hyungwon is standing. “And maybe take Hyungwon with you, he looks like he needs a break.”  
  
“We should do things that you wouldn’t use your own money for, like go on the London Eye or something. God knows, Wonho would never go on a ferris wheel with me,” Hyungwon tuts as he flips the London tourist spots flyer in his hand.  
  
“Where did you get that, by the way?” Kihyun points to the flyer.  
  
“Found it in the hotel room.”  
  
“Look, as much as I would love to play tourist right now, the issue here is that I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to synthesize that shit,” snaps Changkyun, annoyed by their indifference towards the gravity of their whole situation. “All those instructions I wrote down are useless, and unless either of you have some kind of brilliant plan, we will all be dead in five days.”  
  
“Hmm, I guess there is only one thing to do,” Kihyun says thoughtfully. “Are you good at cooking?”  
  
Changkyun swallows that all too familiar feeling of dread that seems to have made itself at home in his mind now. There really, _really_ is no way out of it this one doesn’t involve Yoo Kihyun.  
  
Changkyun avoids him as much as possible for the rest of the day, which is actually relatively easy since they are both kept busy by the contractors. (Hyungwon also seems to have drifted off to God knows where as well.) Finally, they bid each other goodbye and split ways, Kihyun to the hotel, and Changkyun to the bodyguard’s one bedroom flat. He hadn’t realized that fake supervising would be this exhausting, and heads straight to bed.

But despite the tiredness in his chest, sleep continues to evade Changkyun. His mind is still buzzing with thoughts from earlier. Maybe it’s the pillows, he fluffs them repeatedly, still nothing. Perhaps the lighting? He unplugs the nightlight, he’s not used to having it on. Maybe it’s the temperature, he leaves the window open to let some of the night breeze in. After several long painful hours of incessant tossing and turning, he finally drifts off for what feels like two minutes, only to rudely woken up by a soft clang coming from the open window.  
  
“What’s that?” Changkyun’s eyes snap open.  
  
It’s Hyungwon, clambering through the window of the 2 storey townhouse like Korean Peter Parker.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Changkyun squeaks. “How did you–”

“Keep your voice down,” whispers Hyungwon, gently pressing a finger to his lips. “Here, I have something from Kihyun.” He pulls out an iPad from his bag which Changkyun recognizes as the one Kihyun took from him.  
  
“Oh, _now_ he gives it back to me,” Changkyun groans and rolls his eyes. “Does he think I’d be bored because I’m all alone and don’t have access Netflix or something?”  
  
“Turn it on, idiot,” Hyungwon hisses.  
  
Changkyun turns on the iPad to see that a video has already been preloaded. “What’s this?”  
  
“Pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Hyungwon scoffs. “Minhyuk is going to teach you how to make Dalgona Sparkle.”  
  
He presses the play button on the screen and sees a video of an exhausted looking Minhyuk and a beaming Kihyun in some kind of kitchen setup, surrounded by distilling equipment, a bunsen burner, some glass beakers, an assortment of kitchen utensils, jars of ingredients and several very suspicious looking white bricks. They look like they are filming very questionable episode of the Great British Bakeoff.  
  
“ _Hello Changkyun, Minhyuk hasn’t done this in years, but he has generously offered to share his drug synthesizing knowledge for one time and one time only!”_ Kihyun says as he waves cheerfully from within the screen. _  
  
_Minhyuk sighs and grabs a knife. “ _Let’s get this done and over with.”_ _  
  
“Now, you should be careful with knives, they are very dangerous tools. When passing a knife to someone you should hand it this way, handle first. When you give it to Kihyun, it’s this way–”  
_  
“I can’t do this,” Changkyun whispers as he watches Minhyuk scoop some white powder into a small pan and turn on the bunsen burner. “There’s no way to actually make anything that will work like Dalgona Sparkle.”  
  
“Then make the next best thing,” Hyungwon says coolly. “Pass it off as the real deal, collect your money and scram.”  
  
“If we make and sell this we are no different from actual drug dealers. It’s not even a con anymore, people could _die_ because of us.”  
  
“Oh, suddenly you have a moral conscience now? You do realize that it was your grand idea to sell them the formula in the first place, right?” Hyungwon says sharpl.

Changkyun bites his lower lip as turns his attention back to the video. Minhyuk is now stirring the substance in the pot vigorously while Kihyun does the commentary. “ _Keep stirring until you are happy. Not as a person. Just with the colour of your concoction._ ”

“Just so you know, a little bird told me that Scotland Yard is on our case. They sent somebody by the name of David Young,” Hyungwon adds.  
  
Changkyun looks up at him. “David Young?”  
  
“He’s the Golden Boy of Criminal Investigations Department. Came from some poor immigrant family, worked his ass off to get to where he is, the kind of no-holds-barred bastard who will do anything to get results,” Hyungwon continues as he makes his way towards the window.“He’s got a reputation for busting a lot of high profile people, so you know he’s not going to let this one slide.”  
  
As if Changkyun didn’t already feel like he’s trapped in some Sherlock Holmes and Fast and Furious crossover fan fiction. Everything about this situation just gets faster and more furious, and now there’s a whole Scotland Yard to worry about. He puts the iPad down on the bed, pausing the video just as Minhyuk flips Kihyun off and watches Hyungwon carefully climb out the window.  
  
“Look,” Hyungwon adds as he steps onto the ledge. “I’d rather not deal with drugs myself, but you’ve made your bed, so now you have to lie on it.”  
  
“ _Hyung_ ”  
  
Hyungwon turns back to Changkyun.  
  
“You know Kihyun hyung better than I do, so I’m sure you know that partnering with him can be more trouble than its worth,” Changkyun says.  
  
Hyungwon blinks slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into a small smile.  
  
“Partnering with him? You think Minhyuk filmed himself cooking because he’s helping a friend?” he laughs softly. “We are all lone wolves in this operation, we wouldn’t work together if we didn’t have a common goal.”  
  
There’s something about Hyungwon’s gaze that seems so cold as Changkyun continues to look him in the eye. “You know he’s using you. Just like he used me.”  
  
Hyungwon pauses for a moment as he sits on the ledge, long legs dangling, his face illuminated by the faint golden light of the lamp posts.

“I know how to cover my own ass, I suggest you learn to do that too,” he replies.

And then he silently slips out the window and into the night.  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“Oh, fashionably late, I see,” Kihyun raises an eyebrow as Changkyun walks into the ballroom.

“Yeah, and fashionably questionable,” Minhyuk squinting at his weird getup.  
  
Changkyun knew this would happen the moment he reunited with those two clowns. “He just gave me all this stuff, I couldn’t say no,” he sighs, tugging at his jacket awkwardly.  
  
“Hmm, I think if you lose the jacket, you would actually look pretty decent,” Minhyuk nods thoughtfully.  
  
“He’ll be fine,” Kihyun sighs. “I mean, you’re wearing a leather shirt.”  
  
“Excuse me, I got this from a thrift shop,” cries Minhyuk, eyes widening. “I always support sustainable second hand clothing.”  
  
Kihyun casts him a tired look, and proceeds to help himself to some starters.  
  
The past few days have been interesting. After a discussion with the contractors the day after his surprise evening visit from Hyungwon, it’s quite obvious that Changkyun’s presence is unnecessary, and so he does some sight-seeing to take his mind off Minhyuk’s cooking video, which he has been actively avoiding.  
  
He goes to the Tate Modern, since most of the exhibits there are free, and then 10 minutes into it realizes that he doesn’t need to worry about that. He goes to Madame Tussauds, but doesn’t really stay there for more than 20 minutes. Since he’s living in a Sherlock Holmes fan fiction he decided to 221b Baker Street, but barely spends 15 minutes there at well, and comes out with a disappointing flyer that he could have easily printed out by himself. Changkyun asks the bodyguard if they can find fish and chips wrapped in newspaper, the bodyguard just grunts at him, and they get hot dogs instead. Maybe he’ll save the London Eye for when Hyungwon can actually join him. If he ever does show up.  
  
But everything, everything just keeps reminding him of the unavoidable.The renovation of the drug refinery has been going very smoothly; everything is on schedule. He’s been receiving updates from the contractors, who send him pictures of the space and tell him they only need a couple more days until everything is complete. Delightful.  
  
Today there is this launch event. Vongola had booked out the ballroom of the Mandarin Oriental for this event, not sure if it was launching his new collection or the new drugs he thinks he’s going to be getting. Everyone here is dressed to impress: the overworked and underpaid production team, the models who are high on a lot more than just life, probably some mafia, a bunch of Korean con men…The usual suspects.  
  
“These aren’t half bad,” Minhyuk says as he piles some kind of purple devilled egg looking thing on Changkyun’s plate. “I don’t usually fancy white people food like this, but I will give credit when it’s due.”  
  
“Thanks, but my appetite isn’t all that great today,” Changkyun sighs. Usually purple is his colour, but he’s not so sure about purple eggs.  
  
“Well, you should eat because you need energy to study for that big exam coming up,” Minhyuk gives him a look like he knows Changkyun hasn’t been watching the video of him making dalgona.  
  
“I have been studying!”  
  
Minhyuk hums doubtfully as he places some sushi on his plate. “I hope for your sake you really have.”  
  
Changkyun opens his mouth to protest but is immediately shut down by a loud clang of someone tapping a spoon against a glass. Everyone turns to the front of the room, where they see Vongola about to give a speech.  
  
“We are celebrating early, ladies and gentlemen. All of you are all gathered here tonight are part of the Vongola Famiglia,” he roars.  
  
“Here I would like to introduce you to our newest family member, all the way from Korea, Dr. Im Changkyun, the most wonderful candy man,” and he motions towards Changkyun, who just claps awkwardly along with everyone else.  
  
“Some of you know that I was thrown in the bullpen recently, at such a crucial time too. But was I indicted? No! Nobody on the face on this earth could possibly take me down! Of course, I am not only talking about myself, I will never allow the law to lay a single finger on anyone in this family!”  
  
More clapping and cheering. Changkyun looks around the room to see everyone nodding very enthusiastically. Next to him, Minhyuk mumbles, “ _Oh, this should be interesting.”_  
  
“Sadly, even after all the hard work I put in to protect all of you, word has reached me that there might be someone who is trying to fuck me from the shadows! For someone to betray me… Wow. What balls that guy’d have to have.”

Good god. As if he did not have enough to worry about. Changkyun is perspiring once more. He looks at Minhyuk, whose expression is as calm as ever, eyes steady as if he was just at the supermarket to pick up a jug of milk, _no big deal, just another drug launch party you know_ , and takes another tiny sip of his champagne to distract himself.  
  
“Do you think we have someone like that in here? Mr. Lee?” Vongola says as he walks closer and closer towards Minhyuk.  
  
“Not a chance, sir,” Minhyuk smiles, raising his glass.  
  
He chuckles and looks towards Kihyun. “Mr. Yoo?”  
  
“Of course not, no one would be crazy enough to betray you. Well, except maybe me, of course,” Kihyun grins.  
  
“Always the joker,” he laughs. “What about you, Hyungwon?”  
  
“Definitely not,” Hyungwon says sweetly, his eyes sparkling as he emerges from a group of giggling models.  
  
“Such a charmer, this one,” Vongola beams at Hyungwon and finally turns his attention to Changkyun.  
  
“And you, Dr. Im?”

Changkyun feels a muscle twitch involuntarily at the corner of his left eye. “N-no way in hell,” he says, a little too quickly, and then downs the rest of his champagne in one gulp.  
  
“No way in hell!” he barks. “Sad to say that is simply not the case and we have a traitor in our midst. Who do you think it, Doctor?”  
  
Changkyun swallows, his heart is racing again as Vongola moves closer and closer towards him. Should he run? He looks to Kihyun, then to Minhyuk and then to Hyungwon again, but they don’t look like they are preparing to run this time. His bodyguard hands over a baseball bat to Vongola, who takes his time walking in Changkyun’s direction.  
  
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he says. Changkyun’s eyes screw shut to prepare for the worst, grasping the empty champagne glass in his hand so tightly he fears it might break.  
  
A thud and a soft cry. Changkyun’s eyes open. Oh fuck, it’s the money guy. Patrick? Whatever, his name doesn’t matter. Changkyun lets out a sharp exhale as he watches the money man clutch his groin and fall to the ground.  
  
“Where are your balls now, you ingrate fuck? Anyone who thinks they can betray me better watch out, you say? Take him away.” Vongola barks, and several security staff emerge and drag the money man out of the room while everyone watches.  
  
“Not a bad swing, right? He just struck out,” Vongola says proudly. Good thing the lighting in this room is shit, because Changkyun is pretty sure his whole face has gone green.  
  
“Now everyone, eat up!”  
  
Far too close for comfort. He looks to Minhyuk beside him, but Minhyuk is just standing there, cool as ever, unbothered by Vongola’s earlier outburst. 

“Get to it, candy man,” Minhyuk gives him a pat on the shoulder and walks off.

The only thing Changkyun is really aware of the throbbing of his heart in his chest. For the next while, he tries to chase away that apprehension that is settled so deeply inside him. He looks around the ballroom, trying to find everyone. Minhyuk is still having a good time sampling all the food. Kihyun is nowhere to be seen, again. The man has a talent for vanishing at the most crucial times. Hyungwon hasn’t spoken to them all evening but is very visibly having the time of his life with some Australian models, giggling and sipping their brightly coloured drinks like there is no tomorrow. Changkyun would very much prefer for there to be no tomorrow, or the day after, in fact let’s just cancel the rest of the week while we’re at it.  
  
But despite Changkyun’s best efforts, his nerves continue to threaten to spill out. Eventually, he can hold it in no longer and practically sprints to the restroom. He finds it easily enough and pushes the door open, letting it swing close behind him.  
  
It’s completely empty. A small victory, Changkyun hadn’t realized how much he needed this down time until he walked in, even if it’s only for a few minutes. He splashes water on his face and scrubs his hands in the sink, feels his shoulders relax slightly in this momentary solitude.  
  
The door swings open, but he ignores it.  
  
“What a situation,” Changkyun mutters to himself as he rinses the soap off.  
  
“Indeed. What a situation, bro.”  
  
He feels a tap on his shoulder. Changkyun looks over and sees behind him a tall, tan man holding up a badge that says Criminal Investigation Department.  
  
“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath and closes his eyes, as if this could not get even worse.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _hi hello annyeong_


	4. Smooth Criminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first scheme: the explosive conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow thank u for making it this far and reading like… 24k words of my self indulgent bullshitting. heres another 8k of even more… self indulgent bullshitting.
> 
> pandemically,  
> n
> 
> **WARNING: similar to previous ones, DRUG DEALING, SYNTHESIZING AND GUN VIOLENCE. tbh, i don’t want to spoil too much, so i’ll just say there’s a monsta x song reference in here somewhere.**

“I apologize, sir. The restroom is closed for cleaning. There’s another one right down the hallway to your right.”  
  
“Oh, alright then.”  
  
The voice coming from outside sounds an awful lot like Hyungwon’s, which is ironic considering the man in front of Changkyun is the one person Hyungwon told him to watch out for– Young or whatever the hell his name is, is hovering over him, like a bear waiting to catch and devour the salmon leaping up the falls, while his men are probably outside keeping watch. There is no way out of this one, Changkyun has been cornered into a cubicle while Young is standing right in front of the door and he’s definitely not budging anytime soon.

“Hello there. Im Changkyun, right?” he says. His voice is very deep and clear. “I have a few questions to ask you about your relationship with Mr. Vongola.”  
  
Changkyun sits on the closed lid of the toilet seat and sighs, hands cupping his cheeks, too tired to fight. “What do you want with me.”  
  
“Well, Vongola’s little honeymoon with the police is over and we know that you’re cooking for him, aren’t you?” Young asks.  
  
“I’ve never made a damn thing for him and I have no intention of making anything either,” Changkyun snaps back.  
  
“Well, I want you to do it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Young nods at him. “You heard me. I know you’re with Yoo Kihyun and I know exactly what he intends to use you for. Our goal is to put both Vongola and Kihyun behind bars and the fastest way to do that is to catch the both of them during the transaction. So I want you to make the candy.”  
  
“You want me to be part of your sting operation?” Changkyun frowns.  
  
“Well, if you cooperate, I’ll get you off on a plea bargain and send you back home to Korea.”  
  
“And if I refuse?”  
  
“I’m sure the boys at Wakefield would love to have you. You look like you will be very popular there.”  
  
Of course. Changkyun crosses his arms and glares at him, that’s not really a choice anymore.  
  
“I’m sure Kihyun has been very nice to you, but I assure you that it’s all for show,” Young says as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out an eyeglass case to give to Changkyun.  
  
“Our latest gadget, its the same model as the pair you are wearing right now, but fitted with a transmitter.” he explains as Changkyun takes out the pair of black browline glasses within the case for a closer look.  
  
“If you plan to cooperate, put them on when it’s time to cook.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The day before the renovations are complete, Changkyun wakes up to Lazarus knocking on his door telling him that breakfast is ready. After that meeting with Young in the restroom, Changkyun returned to the party and Kihyun of course decided that that would be the perfect time to reappear and question him about where he went for 15 minutes. Changkyun wasn’t really listening to him, mainly because he was still digesting the earlier events of the day, partially because he just didn’t want to. Just to make sure that he wasn’t making anything about the previous evening up, he checks his jacket pocket to see that the glasses that Young gave him are still there.  
  
Sure, Kihyun was “nice” to him, if you ignore the fact that he also took all his money. Kihyun came in clutch once or twice, but like Hyungwon said, everyone here is just trying to cover their own asses and it’s definitely within Kihyun's best interests to keep Changkyun on his side for now. As much as he may present otherwise, Kihyun is definitely an adversary. Changkyun did not get dragged halfway across the world for a vacation; this is a job, he is here to do a job.  
  
It looks like it might rain today. What a perfect metaphor for this whole messy ordeal. As Changkyun stares out the window at the storm clouds rolling in, he notices a photo of Lazarus with a little boy and a woman on the side table that he hadn’t seen before. Interesting, this must be a family photo, but there is hardly any signs of other life in this flat besides his host.  
  
“That boy over there, who is that?” Changkyun asks, pointing to the photo.  
  
“My son, Max,” Lazarus replies, not even looking up from his phone.  
  
Oh, so he really does have a family. “Where is he now?”  
  
“He lives his grandmother. My wife’s mother.”  
  
“And your wife?”  
  
“She’s dead. Died 3 years ago.”  
  
Changkyun mumbles a soft “Sorry for your loss” and Lazarus just nods in acknowledgement. “Do you get to see Max often?”  
  
“I usually get him from Thursdays to Sundays.” Lazarus says.  
  
“That’s today!” exclaims Changkyun, standing up from his chair a little too fast that he bangs his knee against the table and winces slightly.  
  
“Work comes first. Right now, I have to take care of you,” Lazarus adds firmly. “My job is to go wherever you’re going.”  
  
“Well, I wanna see him then!” Changkyun says. “Do you pick him up from school? I wanna see!”

His persistence pays off. Lazarus finally agrees to bring Changkyun to pick his son up from school after he launched into a 30 minute speech about the commercialization of education in South Korea. Perhaps change of scenery might do him some good after the events of the past week, clear his mind a little bit. So after promising that he will stop talking about his short and sad affair with cram school for the rest of the day, they head off to Max’s school where Changkyun waits with the bodyguard, looking very small standing next to him. Soon enough, he hears the bell ring, a flurry of children run out the gates, and he is greeted by a curly haired little boy.  
  
“This is Dr. Im from Korea,” Lazarus introduces him to Max.  
  
“Oh, hello! Do you know Kung Fu or Karate or something?” Max asks, his big eyes blinking wildly.  
  
Changkyun doesn’t really know how he feels about being stereotyped, but he’ll let it slide this time. “I took some Taekwondo lessons as a kid,” he shrugs. He was okay at it, not exactly going to bring home any medals, but he could throw a punch or two.  
  
“Cool!”  
  
Max is pretty cute, about ten years old and extremely talkative. Turns out, Changkyun isn’t exactly the kid whisperer, but they do manage to find a thing or two to talk about. Max hates math (understandable) likes art and music (also understandable). He’s a big fan of mystery, and is really into detective stories. They end up playing a game of ‘would you rather’ which is actually quite fun. This boy is asking the hard hitting questions like “Would rather eat lasagna or soup with your hands?” and “Would you rather have a boat that looks like car or a car that looks like a boat?” None of that silly grown up talk Changkyun has been dealing with for the past week.  
  
“What do you do?” Max ask with great eagerness that only a child could have as they float around absentmindedly in a Tesco.  
  
“I do research,” Changkyun says. Not entirely a lie. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  
  
“Me? Well, I think bodyguards are so cool,” Max says, beaming.  
  
“Like your dad?” Changkyun asks and Max nods. “But you like reading those detective stories so much.”  
  
“No way! Being a bodyguard like Dad is way cooler than being a detective. You get to protect the VIPs from gangs.”  
  
“Oh, you don’t like gangs, huh.”  
  
“Of course not! Gangs aren’t cool. They are always making trouble.”  
  
The rest of the day goes by relatively quickly, maybe that's just how it is when you hang out with children. It's nice to see this side of Lazarus, who was very quiet for pretty much the entire duration of Changkyun's stay. Even though they don't get to time with each other because of Lazarus's job, seeing him spend time with his son warms something inside Changkyun. After some snacks and ice cream, they drop Max off at his grandmother’s place, wave their reluctant goodbyes and Changkyun and Lazarus head back to the one bedroom flat.  
  
That was a good change of pace. After they enter the flat, Changkyun retreats to the bedroom and Lazarus is back on the couch in the living room. There isn’t much in the bedroom that belongs to Max since he doesn't really live here. Just a few pictures, a few toys and probably the teddy bear on the nightstand. Changkyun picks it up, just out of reflex; the day’s events left him thinking about his own relationship with his family, who were always quite serious. He hasn't spoken to them in months–

Hold on. _  
  
_There’s something in here.  
  
Chankyun stares at the bear in his hands for a good minute. _“Oh”_ , he says to himself, eyes narrowing on the bear. This is very awkward. There seems to be a camera embedded in this teddy bear’s eye and he can see it very clearly. Not that Changkyun has been doing much else in this room besides sleeping, but Hyungwon was here a few nights ago, and this means that Lazarus saw it all. He takes a closer look at the seams on the bear sees that they had been redone, and then he finds a wire sticking out of the bear plugged into a power outlet. For a moment he feels his heart drop, but then pauses, and summons whatever is left of his courage to go to living area to find his host.  
  
“You knew this whole time what we were up to, why didn’t you say anything?”  
  
Changkyun drops the bear in front of him, with the camera in clear view, but Lazarus doesn’t seem perturbed at all by Changkyun’s discovery, simply pours himself a drink and takes a long sip. “Protecting Vongola from bodily harm is my job, but protecting his money is not. I have no interest in your affairs,” he says calmly.  
  
“Then why even work for him? Didn’t you used to be in a gang?” Changkyun asks.  
  
Lazarus huffs and looks directly at Changkyun. “It doesn’t pay very well to be a gang leader, you know. You have to have to finance turf wars, take care of all of your subordinates and on top of that you have to pay off the law. You sleep with one eye open every night, its not a life to be envious of.”  
  
“Then why join one in the first place?” Changkyun continues.  
  
“You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?” huffs Lazarus.  
  
Changkyun doesn’t budge. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. If this man was going to harm him, he would have done it ages ago.  
  
Lazarus takes a brief pause before continuing. “I was born and grew up in the gutters of this country. This was the only option for someone like me to have a decent life. I didn’t have the brains or the money for school and I don’t want my son to have to go through the things I did. That's why I'm doing whatever I can to send him to a good university. I promised my wife I would.”  
  
“He’s going to find out one day,” Changkyun says quietly. “He's not going to be a little kid forever. He might already know that you do, he’s just pretending not to.”  
  
“You may be right, but you also don't understand what it's like to be a father,” Lazarus says, and takes another sip of his drink.  
  
Of course, what parent wouldn’t want the best for their own child? But is it though? Is he really doing this for his son's sake? If it weren’t for money, Lazarus wouldn’t be doing what he’s doing. Perhaps even Changkyun wouldn’t be as well. Everything is dictated by money; it always boils down to who is able to pay, because anyone can be bought over for the right price.   
  
Changkyun goes back into the bedroom. What a day, and this was supposed to be a circuit breaker where Changkyun didn’t need to think about the tribulations of being an adult, not come out of it with even more complicated feelings. In the end, everyone really is just the same. It’s getting late, there’s not much time left. It’s now or never, he supposes, and Changkyun decides that it’s time test out his new glasses and give Young a call.  
  
“Can you hear me?” Changkyun says softly as he adjusts the glasses.

A little bit of static later, he finally hears a reply on the other end. “ _Yes. Loud and clear, Mr. Im. I look forward to working with you. Let’s take them down together._ ”  
  
Changkyun takes in a deep breath. “I’ll do it, but on one condition.”  
  
_“And what might that be?”_  
  
“I want you to let go of Lazarus.”  
  
_“No can do, after Vongola, Kihyun, Minhyuk and Hyungwon, Lazarus is next on our list.”_  
  
“How long would he serve if he’s arrested?”  
  
_“Life.”_  
  
Changkyun grits his teeth. “He’s only working so that he can support his son, you know.”  
  
_“That’s none of my concern.”_  
  
“Then I won’t do it! Go catch him yourself, you Scotland Yard scum!”  
  
_“Then you know what’s coming to you.”  
  
_Changkyun scrunches his nose.  
  
_“Listen Mr. Im. You’re in no position to be making demands, do you understand? Know your place in this operation.”  
  
_Life. What a price to pay just for a chance at a better outcome for your own child. Changkyun quietly turns the transmitter off and stuffs his head into the pillow to scream out his frustrations, hating that it has to come to this. That evening, he lies in the darkness for what feels like forever and can only hope and pray that everything turns out alright.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Waiting for the distillery doors to open feels uncomfortably like a student waiting to enter the exam hall to sit for their final paper, only Changkyun is the one taking the exam and everyone else is just observing him. Changkyun has watched and rewatched Minhyuk's video several times by then, he thinks he has the gist of it down. Minhyuk’s final product was immaculate, indistinguishable from what Kihyun had presented that day. He is also clearly much more practiced than Changkyun is, but from what Minhyuk said in the video, as long as he follows the steps closely, he shouldn’t have any trouble making something that could pass.  
  
The whole team is here waiting outside with him, Minhyuk and Kihyun had arrived at the same time, while Hyungwon had arrived separately with some of Vongola's people. As Changkyun stands outside rehearsing the steps in his head, who else should be the first person to approach him on this fine day but Yoo Kihyun, the most dangerous individual Changkyun has has the misfortune of knowing.  
  
“Good morning! Here, have some coffee,”Kihyun smiles as he hands him a plastic cup. “I got it specially for you.”  
  
Changkyun snags the coffee from him and frowns.  
  
“Don’t be so glum. All you have to do today is pretend you’re Walter White,” Kihyun says, completely undeterred by Changkyun’s hostility.  
  
“That’s easy for you to say,” Changkyun mumbles as he gnaws on the green plastic straw.  
  
“You’re doing great so far, especially for a rookie. Remember, it only needs to bear some semblance to the actual product, and then after everything is done, we will be on our way,” Kihyun continues before walking off to join Minhyuk and Hyungwon.  
  
Changkyun sniffs and gently taps the transmitter on his glasses the moment Kihyun is out of earshot. “How many years is he going to get?”  
  
“ _I’m no judge, but my guess is 20. The others would probably be the same as well,_ ” says Young on the other side.  
  
“I see,” he hums and goes back to chewing the straw of his drink. 20 years seems fair, but Kihyun also looks like the type of person who would be able to weasel his way out of it even if he did get life.  
  
“ _You got the instructions on how to make it from Minhyuk right?_ _It’ll all work out. Once you’re done, we will storm in as soon as the money exchanges hands. Get down when you hear us coming. Don’t worry. No one is going to be killed.”_ and then Young signs off.  
  
The doors swing open. It’s like they are in a whole different building, all complicated looking machines and swathes of stainless steel. There’s even a massive walk in refrigerator for storage and a walk in shower for chemical decontamination. The black tiled floor is totally spotless, gleaming. Vongola is already inside the space. Right on the table in front of them, ten silver briefcases.  
  
“This is truly a spectacular setup. Isn’t it, Doctor?” Kihyun grins.  
  
Changkyun nods slowly as he looks around the space . “It’s definitely state of the art.”  
  
“Glad to hear that, I mean, when was the last time I invested this much money in a business venture?” Vongola growls, looking very pleased with the results of the renovation.  
  
“Your divorce?” Kihyun smirks.  
  
Vongola responds with roaring laughter. “Compared to that, this was a bargain.”  
  
“Did you bring the cash?” Kihyun asks, focused on the end goal as always.  
  
“Of course. 10 million pounds, as promised,” Vongola gestures towards the ten metal briefcases.  
  
One of Vongola’s men open up a briefcase and Kihyun and Minhyuk walk over to the table. They look at each other briefly and nod in approval as they examine the contents. “Mind if I count it?” Kihyun asks.  
  
“Hah. You’ll get your money when I get my dalgona, until then it’s hands off,” barks Vongola as he closes the suitcase in front of them with a loud click. “Do you need any assistants, Doctor?”  
  
“No, thank you,” Changkyun shakes his head. “I can manage by myself for now.”  
  
“Alright then. We amateurs will observe you from a safe distance. You may start whenever you’re ready.” Vongola says and gestures for the rest of them to follow him. Just before they go off, Kihyun gives Changkyun a small wink and his mouth shapes the words, “ _Good luck_ ” and Changkyun just sighs and looks away.  
  
They split ways. Vongola and his men, along with Kihyun, Minhyuk and Hyungwon, go into an observation room while Changkyun walks into the main laboratory area which has been fitted with video recording equipment. Both groups are separated by a two way mirror, and everything feels so cold. Changkyun takes a quick glance around the space, pauses at the two way mirror in front of him and takes a deep breath. “ _Alright, it’s time to get cooking_ ,” he says to himself puts on his mask and fixes his glasses.  
  
He starts by boiling some water, carefully scooping and measuring the powders with the high precision digital scales. The base of Minhyuk’s creation is cocaine and the steps are relatively simple, mostly heating and stirring, but there are little tricks to it. Minhyuk was extremely meticulous in his video, explaining each and every step in great detail, adding each one of the ingredients at very specific intervals. He hopes he’s doing Minhyuk justice. Throughout the whole process, Changkyun is trying not to think too much about what he's actually synthesizing, and focuses on the fact that he's just trying to get a job done.   
  
“He works pretty fast,” Vongola says.  
  
“Of course, he’s the expert after all,” Minhyuk responds, arms crossed.   
  
It's a pretty straightforward procedure. Several more rounds of heating and stirring later, he adds a few more substances and places his concoction into a machine for further processing as per Minhyuk’s instructions, heating the molds while he waits. Then, as soon as it’s ready, Changkyun finally pours it all onto a metal plate and stamps it into shape and places his final product into a neat little box.  
  
“It’s done,” he declares as he takes off his mask.  
  
Everyone in the observation room goes to gather around Changkyun’s table to take a look at the candy that he made. His final product looks similar enough to what Kihyun showed Vongola that it doesn’t raise any suspicions; not bad for his first and only attempt. Changkyun exhales slowly and sees Minhyuk give him an approving smile.  
  
“Is it time for a taste test?” Hyungwon eagerly reaches for the candy that is on the table.  
  
“Hold on, love. You’ll get your candy as soon as we get our money,” Kihyun smiles as he gently pushes Hyungwon’s hand away from the goods.  
  
“It’s all here,” Vongola pats the briefcases on the table. “All yours.”  
  
Finally, Kihyun examines the contents of all the briefcases and gives them a nod. “Pleasure doing business with–”  
  
“Shh–”  
  
Minhyuk hisses, lifting his arm, silencing everyone in the room. His eyes steadily scanning the space. “Something is not right,” he whispers, his tone deadly. Of course Minhyuk with his razor sharp senses would be the first to notice that something is up. It's eerily silent, the tension in the air is so pervasive that Changkyun can feel it in his bones. “ _This is it,_ ” he thinks. He bites the inside of his cheek, closes his eyes and starts counting to ten in his head.  
  
And then it all starts.  
  
The doors blast open. A good 50 men dash into the room, all suited up in their gear. It really seems like a scene out of a movie, the police storm in with so much precision that everyone barely has any time to register what is going on. Changkyun can see everyone’s eyes widen in shock, they definitely weren’t expecting this to happen, but before they have time to react, the cops all have their guns pointed at them.  
  
“Everybody freeze! Put your hands behind your heads and get on your knees!” one of officers says. His voice is familiar. He must be the one who was on Vongola’s trail, the one he spoke to on the phone named Atkins.  
  
The whole room is silent as Young emerges from the crowd, just as cool as the day he met Changkyun, and pulls out his badge. “Criminal Investigations Department. You’re all under arrest for the manufacture and distribution of illicit drugs!”  
  
Changkyun can see Kihyun, Minhyuk and Hyungwon glaring at the cops as they get down on their knees, their eyes cold and merciless. But they aren’t resisting, they are cooperating perfectly with the authorities, perhaps they know their luck has run out.  
  
“Get over here, Mr. Im,” Young says quietly.  
  
Oh God. Changkyun gets up slowly, still shaking slightly from the nerves.  
  
“Oh, so he’s the loyal type,” Kihyun whispers, eyes narrowing on Changkyun as he makes his way to the front.  
  
“Fucker, you sold us out,” Hyungwon hisses.  
  
“You’re the one who told me that I should be covering my own ass,” Changkyun says softly as he walks over to the other side.  
  
Vongola and all of his men are also on their knees now, not a single peep between them. Changkyun looks up from where he is standing and his eyes meet with the bodyguard Lazarus and then Hyungwon, who is kneeling right next to him. Hyungwon definitely looks like he’s about to stab someone and drag them straight to Hell with him. Changkyun swallows, he’s been on the receiving end of that look once before and it’s not a great place to be. Then suddenly, he sees Hyungwon’s eyes dart to Lazarus’s waist–  
  
“Shhh–”  
  
Before anyone can say or do anything, Hyungwon breaks out of formation and snatches the gun that is on Lazarus’s holster and aims it directly at Young, ready to shoot to kill.  
  
“Hyungwon! Get down!”  
  
“No! MINHYUK!”  
  
It’s too late, the men have opened fire. It’s the most horrific thing he has ever seen. Everything is happening in slow motion as Changkyun watches Minhyuk shield Hyungwon’s body with his own. The gun in Hyungwon’s hands flies out towards Changkyun, landing by his feet. There’s already so much blood, and then he sees Kihyun also break out to run towards the both of them to stop them as the bullets continue to rain down.

And just like that, Minhyuk and Hyungwon are tangled together in a pool of blood while Kihyun’s own lifeless body lies barely two feet away. All three of them completely still, not so much as a pulse between them. It was all so fast, so sudden, everything just happened in a matter of moments. Silence fills the room once more. “No…” Changkyun whispers as he watches the life drain out of their bodies. His hands are shaking, his legs are shaking. This was not what was supposed to happen, this was a mistake.  
  
“You said no one would die! You shot them!” Changkyun shrieks at Young, pointing at the pile of bodies on the floor with his trembling hand.  
  
“They were just following protocol,” Young says coldly.  
  
_They killed them, even though they promised they wouldn’t. They fucking killed them._ Changkyun’s whole being is vibrating with rage, every pent up frustration he’s felt for the past week begins to manifest itself. Any rationality that Changkyun had before is gone, replaced by something primitive. He lunges forward before he has time to think, snags the gun by his feet and points it directly at Young’s head in one move.  
  
“Throw down your guns and get out of my way or this man dies NOW.”  
  
Changkyun feels the whole room’s eyes upon him. The officers listen to him, slowly lowering and putting away their firearms. Changkyun’s arms are trembling, tears streaming down his face, jaw tight, teeth grinding. He walks up to Young slowly, as much as his shaky legs can carry him. But then his ankle betrays him and he slips, feels himself lose balance. And then a gun shot.  
  
Christ, suddenly it’s a whole fucking shoot out. This is it, this is how he’s going to die, just like how the rest of them died. Like Minhyuk said, everyone has to die some day, and it looks like this is how it will go down for him as well. Changkyun’s ears ring with the sound of gunfire, the flurry of bullets flying though the air like shooting stars. He feels his body slam into the ground the moment he is tackled, that’s going to bruise pretty badly.  
  
“ _Hang on, where’s Vongola–_ ”  
  
Fuck, in this midst of this chaos, Vongola seems to have slipped off somewhere. Changkyun’s cheek is pressed against the cold floor as he’s being held down by someone, he cannot tell who. He can’t move, can barely see two feet in front of him. It's all so much, so overwhelming. Then, just as he is recovering his vision, Changkyun notices a blurry figure that looks like Vongola, sneaking off to where all the whiskey stills are kept and is fiddling with one of the dials. Wait, is that a pressure gauge? At first, he can’t figure out what he’s trying to do, but then he notices one of the stills begin to collapse in on itself–  
  
“Everyone get down!” screams a voice that sounds like Young.  
  
An explosion. Glass shattering, people howling, the sudden gust– and then just as suddenly as it all started, everything is gone.  
  
  


* * *

  
The mobile police office where Changkyun was taken into custody along with Vongola and Lazarus is packed with complicated looking surveillance equipment. All things considered, his injuries aren’t too bad. One of the agents helps apply a bandage to his cheek as he sits with his hands tied behind his back. From the corner of his eye, he sees Kihyun, Minhyuk and Hyungwon’s bodies zipped up in the body bags on the floor. Even though he’s only known them for about a week, it’s still unsettling to think about. He’s exhausted, so completely drained, can barely move his head even. Vongola seems to have escaped with pretty much no injuries, and aside from a few scratches, Young looks just fine as well. There’s nothing Changkyun can do anymore besides sit in his chair as he watches Young and Vongola at the table about to begin some kind of interrogation. He just wants it all to be over.  
  
“To think you’d blow up the whole distillery just to destroy the evidence, but even without that, it’s all over for you,” Young says coolly as he drums his fingers on the table.  
  
“I wonder about that. I think a convincing argument can be made that I was never here,” Vongola replies just as confidently.  
  
Young gives him a small smile. “So how would you explain this then?” He turns on the screen behind them, displaying an image of Vongola and Lazarus at the distillery.  
  
Vongola looks at the picture and smirks. “Mr. Young. How much is your annual income as a superintendent?”  
  
“I am not obligated to answer that question,” Young says firmly.  
  
“That’s fine, I more or less know. You and your men put your lives at stake for this country and you get peanuts in return.”  
  
“We take pride in serving our nation in the name of justice. That eases the struggle to make ends meet.”  
  
Vongola sneers, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Come on. You’re just a dog of the government who doesn’t even get table scraps. You’ll never make it big so long as you have that collar on. Why not slip it off and come play in my yard for a little bit?”  
  
Young laughs coldly. “I will not dignify that with an answer.”  
  
“Hmm. You’re more stubborn than I thought,” Vongola says impatiently, and then he points to the image on the screen. “Is this picture the only evidence that you have? Do you have any other copies of this image?”  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“Well if that’s the case, I will buy it off you for 10 million. How about it? How many lifetimes would it take for you to earn that much money the honest way?”  
  
Young doesn't answer, simply looks straight at him, unmoving, eyes steady.  
  
“No? 20 million?”  
  
But he still doesn’t budge. After a few more seconds, he finally says, “It’s not just me you need to worry about. You’d have to buy off all my subordinates as well.”  
  
“How much then?” Vongola demands, standing up suddenly and slamming his fist onto the table.  
  
“Well, let me think about it,” Young says calmly, hands clasped together. “Right about…100 million.”  
  
Changkyun’s eyes go wide in disbelief. Vongola laughs softly. “Don’t be silly, I don’t have that kind of money.”  
  
“Your Swiss bank accounts beg to differ,” Young states flatly.  
  
“You’d be leaving me penniless. My organization would be flat broke!” Vongola says darkly as he sits back down.  
  
But Young, steady as ever doesn’t even flinch. “Hmm. Don’t flatter yourself, Vongola. You’re just a stray dog whose nose led him somewhere lucky a couple of times.”  
  
Vongola huffs and pulls out his phone to start the wire transfer. After a few minutes ofexchanging details and making some calls, Young coolly looks over his phone, checking to make sure that all the 100 million pounds has been deposited into the correct accounts, before giving him a firm nod of approval, and then he swiftly turns back to pull out the SD card from the computer.  
  
“Alright. The money has been sent. You sure there are no copies?” Vongola grunts.  
  
“I wouldn’t lie with 100 million on the line,” Young smiles as he hands over the SD card to Vongola.

“Wonderful. Pin all the lesser charges on him, then,” Vongola laughs as he points to Lazarus who is standing beside the entrance.  
  
“For sure. He definitely looks like he’s big enough to handle all of them,” smiles Young, and the both of them burst into laughter.  
  
“Pleasure doing business with you,” says Vongola as he gets up from his seat to leave the room.  
  
“Likewise, see you again,” Young says as he waves him goodbye.  
  
The deed is done. Vongola gives them a half hearted little wave before he leaves and closes the door behind him with a loud click.  
  
How absolutely atrocious, Changkyun can barely believe what he just saw. He's disgusted, these supposed law enforcers are supposed to serve and protect, but all they do is bow down to money. It's even worse that he could have imagined. “ _You…_ ” Changkyun’s voice is rasping with fury. “You’re all fucking rotten to the core! What did they die for, huh? I always knew all cops are bastards, but _you_ –”  
  
But before he can finish, Changkyun feels a hit to his jaw, his body sinks into his chair and everything cuts to black.  


.

.

.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
  
A loud clap.  
  
“The show’s over, folks!”  
  
Minhyuk’s voice is the first to ring through the room as he cheerfully emerges from the body bag like a bloody butterfly emerging from its cocoon, followed by Kihyun who peels the plastic away from himself like cling film. Hyungwon is already up and at it, standing over an unconscious Changkyun, flexing his wrist after the punch he just threw at him.  
  
“You are so violent recently. I always knew between you and Wonho, you were the actual muscle,” Kihyun says as he gets up from the floor.

“Changkyun made me use all of my moves in one week,” groans Hyungwon as he stretches his long arms. “I don’t want to do any of this again. It’s so draining, count me out next time.”

“You always say that, but the moment Kihyun tells you how much is involved, you’re back in the game,” Minhyuk laughs.  
  
“What can I say, Hyungwon is one of the best out there and he doesn't get out of bed for less than a million bucks,” Kihyun shrugs as he gently dusts himself off. “That was quite the performance, Shownu hyung!”

The man at the table gives Kihyun a thumbs up and pulls a fresh new set of clothes from one of the drawers for each of them. “Is he always like this? Where did you even find him?” Shownu asks, frowning at an unconscious Changkyun.  
  
“He’s a lot to handle isn’t he? Kihyun literally picked him off the street like a stray cat,” Minhyuk explains, poking Changkyun’s cheek. “But he’s kinda cute when he’s quiet like this.”  
  
Just as everyone is stripping out of their bloody clothes, there is a knock on the door. “Our people are all clear. No serious injuries on the police side as well, but a few of them are out cold,” says one of Shownu’s men.  
  
“Let them be, they will realize soon enough,” Shownu waves him off and then looks up and notices Lazarus, who is standing around looking extremely confused. “Oh, you’re still here. You’re free to go, you know.”

Lazarus is completely lost for words as he watches Minhyuk and Kihyun put on their new suits while Hyungwon helps him out of his handcuffs. “You're not David Young?”  
  
“Nope, not even close,” Shownu smiles as he pulls out another flash drive from the computer and gives it to Lazarus. “You’re Lazarus, right? I’m sure that if you give this to the real David Young at Scotland Yard, he will give you a very handsome reward.”  
  
“Send Max our regards,” Kihyun smiles at Lazarus as he fixes his new, clean jacket and then takes a quick look out the window. “Oh, our ride is here. It’s time to bounce.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Changkyun opens his eyes to see the ceiling above him. He cautiously feels the surface he is lying on, it is soft and smooth to the touch, some kind of high quality silk. It seems he has been here for at least several hours now, judging by how it’s the clearly the middle of the day. The room shifts into focus as he pushes himself up on his elbows, it’s oblong shaped, decorated with shelves of handmade teapots, very expressive paintings of animals and for some reason a skeleton in the corner with a stuffed bird on its bony shoulder.  
  
“Fuck,” he says to himself as the feeling of dread sweeps across his whole being. “Not this shit again.” Changkyun looks down at his body; still dressed in the same outfit as yesterday but covered in dust, even his shoes are still on, the brushed leather oxfords that Kihyun had picked out for him just when this whole charade was starting to get messy. Whoever put him on the bed had literally just picked him up after he passed out and left him on top of the covers. Not even on a pillow, no wonder his neck is so sore.  
  
He checks his hands and feet. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Check and check. So far so good. Given the rather dramatic turn of events in his life, he feels like he should be more severely injured in some form, Changkyun has gotten worse injuries from less after all, but it seems that he has gotten away with just minor scrapes and bruises. There’s a particularly big bruise on his hip that he only feels when he rolls over to his side. How did that happen?  
  
Changkyun gets off the bed and peers out the balcony, a wisp of wind blows through his hair, making the suffocating humidity slightly more bearable as the afternoon sun sears his skin. He appears to be in some sort of villa, surrounded by coconut palms and massive trees dotted with yellow and red flowers. The balcony is lined with shrubs covered in curious red berries, and so Changkyun being Changkyun, picks one and takes a bite (After all, his life mantra is: you can eat everything _once_ ). After a few seconds, he recognizes it as a miracle fruit, the weird berries that make lemons taste sweet after you eat them. Changkyun had only heard of them from the random texts that his mother forwards to him from one of her alternative health group chats. On it’s own it really doesn’t taste like much and he kind of wishes there was a lemon nearby to test this theory.  
  
This would all be kind of nice, if he had any idea what was going on. The last time he checked he definitely was not on some tropical island. Changkyun remembers very little about what happened the previous day, only that there was complete pandemonium – everyone was panicking. At some point, he supposes, he was captured, which is likely how he ended up here. But his captors don’t seem to have any strong feelings about keeping him confined and if he tried hard enough (or at all, really) he could easily escape from this balcony.  
  
His ears pick up a soft roaring sound coming from his left. Curious, Changkyun goes back into the room to find the source of it, still chewing the miracle fruit. On the way, he waves to the skeleton and pets the stuffed bird, just because, and gets distracted by an abstract painting of some bears(?) dancing with melons.  
  
“Weird,” he thinks to himself.  
  
The roaring noise comes back and Changkyun remembers what he was supposed to be doing. It seems to be coming from behind a huge velvet curtain that covers a third of the south-facing wall. Investigative as ever, Changkyun slowly pulls back the curtain to see staring back at him with bejewelled blue eyes–  
  
“… A white tiger?” he says out loud, as if the tiger could understand him and verify his statement. _  
  
_He blinks twice, three times.

_“_ … _Two white tigers?”  
  
_Behind the curtain is another room, where two young white tigers, both roughly the size of a toy poodle, are rolling about in a massive cage that could easily fit at least three Changkyuns. Inside the cage is water in a dog bowl, what looks like some kind of meat (or maybe cat food?) half eaten, presumably by the tigers, an assortment of toys and a cardboard box, because even big cats need a box to hide in sometimes.

This is a lot, almost too much. Changkyun has barely any time to process everything before the door creaks open and behind it, the face of a man he thought he would only see again in Hell.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

And Changkyun, honest to God, cannot help himself anymore.

“Where the fuck am I?”  
  
“Come downstairs. We’re celebrating,” Minhyuk continues, ignoring Changkyun’s distress.  
  
Changkyun blinks confusedly. He’s certain he saw Minhyuk being shot multiple times right in front of his eyes, but right now he’s standing right there in front of him, looking almost bored.  
  
“Am _I_ dead?” Changkyun blurts out.  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“Why are there two tigers? What is this room?”  
  
“ _Two?_ ” Minhyuk looks just as surprised as he is. “I thought Wonho said he was only bringing _one_.”  
  
That still doesn’t explain anything.  
  
“Don’t mind the decor, just some leftovers from the old owners, they were some kind of occultists or something,” Minhyuk scrunches his nose as he looks around the room in disapproval. “Shownu hyung is still redecorating. I think he found a buyer online for the skeleton and is mailing it out very soon. The place will be different the next time you come over, no more stuffed birds, I promise you.”  
  
But Changkyun continues to stare at Minhyuk, who is getting impatient.  
  
“What are you waiting for? Are you injured? You didn’t break any bones, did you?” Minhyuk asks as he walks into the room to grab Changkyun’s arm. “You should get down here before all the food runs out.”  
  
He pulls Changkyun out of the room and down the stairs. The rest of the house really is different. Much lighter in tone with simpler, more cohesive decor, all hardwood flooring, the walls recently repainted. The room he was in seems to be some kind of miscellaneous store room, housing everything from teapots to wild animals.  
  
It really is a celebration of some sort like Minhyuk said. The sound of laughter fills his ears before he can enter the main living space. There are about 50 people in and about the villa and all the sliding doors of the building have been opened to a view of the beach. Tables laden with trays of food and drinks line the walls. Everyone seems to be having a great time. Then, Changkyun notices a familiar face running towards him.  
  
“Changkyunnie!” Jooheon is almost in tears as he pulls Changkyun into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay! A mafia drug heist as a first job? That must have been crazy!”  
  
“It was intense,” Changkyun agrees, still in shock, gently patting Jooheon on the back. He looks perfectly fine, thank goodness. Where do they even begin with this reunion? A simple ‘How have you been? What have you been up to?’ doesn’t quite cover it.  
  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you anything about what was going on! Kihyun hyung really needed someone last minute and I couldn’t do it because I had to help Wonho hyung with an assignment–”  
  
“Right. That guy…”  
  
Kihyun… Where the fuck is Kihyun? If anyone has all the answers, it’s him. Minhyuk is alive, so that means he must be as well. Jooheon is saying so many things but Changkyun isn’t listening, can’t listen; he’s busy scanning the room looking for that rat bastard Kihyun in the middle of this soiree. Soon enough, Changkyun spots him, just standing by the table helping himself to some drinks and the moment their eyes meet, Changkyun’s memory starts bubbling back.  
  
“ _You…_ ” he snarls as soon as Kihyun approaches them.  
  
“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” smiles Kihyun as he offers Changkyun a glass of champagne. “Drink up, it’s party time.”  
  
“Where are we?” Changkyun demands. “What the fuck is going on?”  
  
Kihyun sighs and brushes Changkyun’s wild bed head with his fingers. “A private island. Shownu hyung’s private island to be exact. That’s what we call him by the way, don’t go around calling him Young or whatever that name was.”  
  
Changkyun looks to his right and sees the man they call Shownu talking to Hyungwon. He takes a quick glance at his wrist watch. _Fucking hell, of course._ Changkyun glares back at Kihyun, but Kihyun is not the least bit perturbed and continues, “Your wager helped set us up for an even bigger con and it all went according to plan! Well, besides your one man cavalry charge and the fact that whole place blew up.”  
  
“You’re so lucky Shownu hyung could do the legwork to carry out your ridiculous scheme, Kihyun,” Hyungwon says as he and Shownu walk up to them. Hyungwon looks fine too, more alert than Changkyun remembers seeing him in days. He then turns to Changkyun and says, “I don’t know what possessed _you_ to think you could take Shownu hyung down. Good thing he’s just too gentle to actually hurt any of us.”  
  
Changkyun doesn’t really know what possessed him either. This man is a good couple inches taller than he is and all lean muscle. Changkyun is at least a good few months away from that still.  
  
“Well, no harm done. Might have even helped, gave your mark an opening,” Shownu shrugs.  
  
“You did really well, by the way,” Hyungwon is smiling brilliantly as he praises Shownu. “Really emulated that bastard cop energy. I hated you the moment I saw you.”  
  
“That’s a huge compliment coming from you,” Shownu laughs.  
  
But Changkyun still has plenty of other questions.  
  
“How… you? Min–?”  
  
“Oh. Prop blood. You know, the kinds they use in movies? Hyungwon helped get those,” Kihyun says casually.

“The guns?”  
  
“All props. None of it was real.”  
  
“The cops?”  
  
“Some of them were real, but the explosion knocked them all out. The explosion was real as well. Very dangerous. Good thing everyone was fine, can’t have actual blood on our hands, that’s far too messy.”  
  
Changkyun, undeterred, continues glare at Kihyun. “Who else are you hiding?”  
  
“No more surprises,” promises Kihyun. “Everyone who is a part of the main team is here. Just the six of us. When you join us, it’ll be seven.”  
  
Seven. Changkyun looks around the room once more, the other people at this party look vaguely familiar, they must have been the ones playing the cops as a part of Shownu’s operation.  
  
“So you’re telling me that _everyone_ in this room is a con artist,” Changkyun says flatly.  
  
“Yes, exactly!”  
  
“But then why did you trick me again?”  
  
“Mainly to deceive the real police who were involved, but partially… for fun,” Kihyun shrugs.  
  
_Fun??_

“You’re just so fun to tease,” Kihyun smirks as he gently pats Changkyun’s cheek.

Changkyun closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, feels every muscle in his body tense once more at the realization that he has, once again, been taken for a ride, that everyone had been in on this, except for him.  
  
“Any more questions?”  
  
Yes. There’s one more unsolved mystery. “Why are there tigers here?”  
  
“Oh, right,” Kihyun nods, as if he completely forget about the giant cage in Changkyun’s room. “Suga and V are coming by later to pick them up. The tigers will be gone before dinner.”  
  
“But that doesn’t explain why they were upstairs?”  
  
“Wonho and Jooheon rescued them from an exotic animal dealer and had to babysit them for a little while before Suga had time to pick them up. They are going somewhere they can frolic around. Don’t worry, they will be very happy.”  
  
“Wonho hyung even named them. Bom and Yeoreum,” Jooheon shakes his head. “Minhyuk hyung said we could only take one, but Wonho hyung couldn’t bear to separate them because they are sisters.”  
  
If any of then wanted to continue the conversation, they are no longer able to, because Minhyuk just turned on the TV to almost max volume, and on the screen is Vongola, still covered in bruises and bandages from the previous day’s events, being taken into custody by the authorities.  
  
“Hey! You guys have to check this out!” Minhyuk gestures to the TV, which is twice the size of the biggest TV Changkyun had seen previously.  
  
– _Evidence has come to light of Carmine Vongola’s extensive drug trafficking syndicate, it looks like he can no longer escape a guilty verdict.–  
  
_“And that, my good fellows, is the end of the Vongola Famiglia!” Minhyuk smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. “Take that, you fucking clam.”  
  
The whole room erupts in cheers, everyone is clinking their glasses together in a toast. Even Hyungwon smiles and raises his glass towards Changkyun, who takes another second to breathe, but not for long.  
  
“All hail the king! Wonho’s back, baby! And it’s time to get this party started for real!”  
  
Another round of cheers and applause. Changkyun looks up and sees Wonho walk into the space with a couple of others, pushing several trolleys stacked with what looks like a hundred metal briefcases and his eyes go wide.  
  
“Wonho! Its been so long, we’ve missed you!” Kihyun shouts over the crowd while Wonho laughs and waves back at him.  
  
“I have with me, the fruits of our labour!” Wonho says proudly pointing towards the mountain of suitcases. “10 million from Operation Dalgona and an additional 100 million from the Scotland Yard buy off!”  
  
“A grand total of 110 million Pounds Sterling!”

This is a whole new meaning to making it rain. Never in his life has Changkyun seen so much money being thrown around so carelessly. Prior to this moment, he couldn’t even picture what 100 million in cash even looked like. Bills are just flying everywhere, like the scene where Harry’s Hogwarts acceptance letters fill up the Dursleys’ house. People are throwing money around like it’s worthless confetti. Some of them are emptying suitcases and making snow (or rather, cash) angels with the contents. One guy starts stuffing his pockets full of cash in broad daylight and everyone is just okay with it. Somewhere in the distance, Changkyun thinks he saw Minhyuk and Hyungwon leave the house with several briefcases each. Its completely insane. Changkyun finds a spot right in the centre of the leather couch to just sit down and stare out the open windows at the beach.  
  
“This is your cut. The 5 million that you asked for,” Kihyun smiles as he drops a sack filled with cash on Changkyun’s lap.  
  
Changkyun doesn’t even look at the money, just continues to stare blankly into space. He feels nothing anymore. It’s like when he went to see the 'live action’ remake of the Lion King and watched Mufasa die. He feels nothing.  
  
“I like you, Changkyun. I believe you have what it takes to be a first-rate confidence man,” Kihyun says brightly as he takes a seat next to him. “You’re brave, clever and you have that special spark. It’s so very refreshing.”  
  
Spark. That’s one way to put it. So this was all supposed to be his initiation into their bizarre little group of bandits? Some kind of extremely elaborate job interview? Changkyun doesn’t even know what to make of this anymore. “You really think I can do this,” he says over the chaos that is happening in the background.  
  
Kihyun pauses for a moment, glances around the room and replies just loud enough for Changkyun to hear, “I think you’ve been practicing for this role your whole life, you just didn’t know it.”  
  
“So how about it?”  
  
Changkyun just sits still for a long time, letting the feelings flow through him and eventually his head starts to clear as he considers what he’s going to say. This man sitting next to him, this master of manipulation, really knows how to bend and sculpture his words to suit Changkyun’s ears, and yet something about the way he said it sounded so genuine, that Changkyun can’t help but give him a small smile. After a few more moments of silent contemplation, he finally gathers his thoughts, sits up a little straighter, looks Kihyun in the eye and gives him an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU and that concludes the first scheme. C:
> 
> now that we’ve met everyone. like wonho said. _its time to get this party started for real._
> 
> i will going on a short hiatus for this story. but I will return!!! (life calls, y’know) and also sometimes a bitch needs to rotate between things and that bitch is me…
> 
> fatal love coming out soon. gotta support the boys!!!
> 
> as always, lmk your thoughts. i’d love to hear them. c:


	5. Rumour Has It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> interlude: a case of déjà vu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. i am back on my bullshit temporarily and we have a special guest appearance.
> 
> my native country decided to self destruct today and so i was like… you know what. life is too short to deny the no mercy finalists of their dues. 
> 
> no warnings for this one. now we have that intro stuff out of the way, we’re turning up the heat. let the shipping begin. (slowly, of course. can’t kill that frog in the pot just yet)
> 
> think of it this way. each chapter that is posted means another chapter closer to the deed.
> 
> ciao,  
> n

There’s no need to fill in all the details to get someone to buy into a scheme. All you have to do is to give the person you’re fleecing an impression of the truth. Their own imaginations will take over and do a better job of selling it than you ever could on your own.  
  
This was the first thing that Kihyun learned when he started this job. He was told by his then colleagues that he was too tense “like a little clam” and “could stand to be a bit more vulnerable” because of his tendency to get stressed out, over plan and over scheme. A rookie mistake, you must be prepared to roll with the punches in this line of work since no one can really plan how things turn out in the end. After all, no one ever plans to be a con artist.

But even the greatest scheme in the world is completely worthless without a great crew. It’s necessary for everyone to move together like clockwork in a grand mechanism, and Kihyun’s great crew is just short of one more:  
  
There’s Shownu, who is the calmest and steadiest of the lot. Wonho is a bit more emotional but is just as reliable and he knows how to play people. Minhyuk sees through everything, knows every secret and notices every detail. Kihyun himself has perfected the skill of telling people exactly what they want to hear when they want to hear it. Hyungwon always gives it his all and knows how to handle himself in a scheme, even if he may not always have a handle on himself. Jooheon is an all rounder, always stays chill on the job and never loses his cool. And then there’s Changkyun, who is rather unpredictable, kind of a rogue and much more pure hearted than he likes to present, but the way his mind works is so ingenious that Kihyun is willing to see past all of his bullshit.  
  
It’s almost like Kihyun has been waiting for him all these years. Changkyun checks all the boxes on Kihyun’s list. He fills a slot on the “Things that make the team work” bingo card perfectly. He’s just so interesting, so weird and absurd. Kihyun wants him, he needs him. He is perfect for Kihyun’s purposes.  
  
He does however have a tendency to play hard to get, especially when he slips out of Kihyun’s sight, but Kihyun will of course, find a way to lure him back.

Kihyun travels a lot for work. He sometimes jokes that they are on a world tour, as if he is in some kind of musical ensemble. It’s funny to think about because Kihyun gave up on that dream a long time ago. Right now he is in Bali. He’s been here a few times. It’s not bad, there’s a lot of sun and the weather is fantastic, much better than England, but there are so many people here and it can feel a bit like a tourist trap.

“Hello, Wonho. You look gorgeous today,” Kihyun waves Wonho down just as he is leaving the beach.  
  
“Oh, Kihyun! You’re here,” Wonho laughs, not at all surprised to see Kihyun at Kuta Beach on a Tuesday afternoon. He’s used to these surprise visits by now. “I thought Changkyun was your favourite, why are you flirting with me.”

Kihyun flashes him a coy smile as he adjusts his sunglasses and continues. “I see you’re into surfing now. How’s that going for you?”  


“Pretty good,” Wonho smiles. “I’m having a lot of fun. Getting better at it too.”

“Would you be interested in a new business venture? It will require some training, but seeing how you managed to pick up surfing so quickly, I’m confident you’d be able to pick this up as well,” Kihyun reaches into his bag and hands him a purple pocket folder.  
  
“Kihyun. Are you serious? This is– This is literally a 180 from surfing,” Wonho frowns as he looks over the documents. “I'm not sure any amount of training will suffice.”  
  
“I understand,” Kihyun nods. “This fish is harder to reel in than our previous one, so it’s a full team effort.”  
  
“Really? Changkyun is coming too?” Wonho says in surprise, his big Bambi eyes shining wide. “Rumour has it he’s on the straight path now.”  
  
“So I heard,” Kihyun gives him that look, the one he has on whenever he’s thinking about something menacing. “But I’ll give him an offer he cannot refuse.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Sometimes Changkyun gets weird dreams.

Nothing kinky, just erotic. But for the past few weeks, Kihyun has visited him in his sleep on more than one occasion and has become something of a recurring nightmare. It’s annoying to say the least, but sometimes it’s useful. A few nights ago, he dreamt that Kihyun cut his hair. The next morning he looked into the mirror and realized that he actually did need a haircut, maybe even a change of style. Why not? Who is going to stop him from stabbing a needle through his face? So he did it, he treated himself to a small makeover and emerged from the salon and piercing parlour several hours later with an ash brown undercut and a new eyebrow piercing.  
  
Changkyun attributes these dreams to a phone call he received a couple of weeks ago from Kihyun. Prior to that phone call, the last time they spoke was when they were on Shownu’s private island and Kihyun had asked him if he would be interested in joining his crew.  
  
“I need to think about it,” Changkyun said that day.  
  
Kihyun seemed genuinely surprised by his answer, but replied very courteously with “Of course. Take your time.”  
  
Changkyun has taken his time to think about it. He’s taken four months, in fact. After they left Shownu’s private island on his private jet, everyone on the team went their own ways and he has not been in touch with Kihyun since he last saw him at Gimpo Airport.  
  
During those months, he’s been keeping himself busy with other things. He started an Instagram where he livestreams himself sleeping, just because. He bought a billboard space in New York and another one in Tokyo to advertise his Instagram. (Apparently Minhyuk saw it and texted him about that one) He put himself on sale on Facebook to see how many offers he would get (it's not human trafficking if you're the one doing it).  
  
Changkyun also upgraded various other aspects of his life. His shed was demolished by his landlord, which was another predicament altogether. After several weeks of living as a vagabond, he finally managed to secure himself a two bedroom apartment. One bedroom for himself, and the second bedroom also for himself when he doesn’t feel like being in the first bedroom. He got a cat, because he’s always wanted one, and now he has the time and the money for a pet (She has no name yet, but he will figure it out later). Changkyun even bought himself his first decent piece of non-flatpack furniture – a fancy leather gaming chair. He can do whatever he wants now, because fuck it, there’s no one to tell him yes or no anymore. Changkyun can sit naked in his chair and no one will bother him, because it’s _his_ chair in _his_ apartment.  
  
But for better or worse, and he will never admit this out loud even to Jooheon, nothing he did during those four months captured his attention nearly as much as his escapade in London.  
  
Back to the dreams. It’s not just Kihyun who has been showing up in his sleep. The other night he had another dream that everyone on the team was dressed in period clothing, filming some kind of palace drama using their cell phones like a bunch of amateur YouTubers. Everyone was also beating each other up for some reason and Minhyuk was winning. What exactly was he winning? Changkyun doesn’t know, but he was winning.

So when Kihyun phoned him that morning, Changkyun genuinely did think he was still dreaming at first. He was half asleep, his overnight Instalive was still going, his new cat was pawing at his face. A lot was going on.  
  
“Good morning, Changkyun,” Kihyun said in his most polite diplomat voice. Changkyun could practically hear that smile he had on through the phone, cheek dimples and all. “I’m calling to ask if you would be interested in a new business venture.”  
  
“Oh,” Changkyun replied, eyes half open. “I’ll get back to you.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
And then he never got back to him.

As tempting as it is to scam, con, hoodwink and bamboozle some very deserving one percenters, Changkyun is all too aware of Kihyun’s tendency to leave him collecting struggles like he is collecting Pokémon. Under different circumstances, he might actually be into this sort of thing, but Satan is not having his way today.  
  
It’s not just Kihyun who leaves Changkyun a little pained and discombobulated, there’s also his crew, who all seem so much larger-than-life. They somehow manage to mesh together despite (or maybe because) of their differences and they all move like they can read each other’s minds. Shownu, Minhyuk, Hyungwon and Wonho have all known each other for years at this point and are all seasoned professionals in this field. Changkyun isn’t entirely sure how he fits into their dynamic.  
  
Then there’s Jooheon. Changkyun can’t even be mad at him because Jooheon wasn’t technically lying. He did introduce him to his boss-man, even if said boss-man is a cryptic con artist. He did get him a new job that is related to his experience, even if said new job is a much higher stakes version of his previous side hustle. Changkyun can’t say he is against Kihyun and his crew’s whole anti-capitalist agenda of stealing from the ultra rich to give to themselves, but this life is so much, so extra. Sometimes Changkyun doesn’t want to go full out Ocean’s Eleven, sometimes Changkyun just wants to stay at home and bake bread.

But thanks to Jooheon, Changkyun is finally out of the shitty fake restaurant review writing business and no longer has to work a desk job answering emails. So it’s only fitting that Changkyun invites Jooheon to his new place once everything is set up. Jooheon, of course, accepts the invitation immediately after Changkyun messages him, and they arrange a date to meet up for dinner. Changkyun does the necessary chores to make his new apartment presentable, he cleans the cat hair off the couch with the lint roller, sweeps the floor, wipes down the stove that he used once to boil a single egg. He even grabs the premium microwavable rice porridge at the supermarket because this is as close to gourmet as it’s going to get here.  
  
Everything is set and good to go. Just as he is finishing up in the kitchen, the doorbell rings. The moment Changkyun answers the door, his cat starts meowing at Jooheon, who immediately crouches down to coo at her and scratch her little ears.  
  
“Damn, she’s not even this nice to me,” Changkyun says as he watches Jooheon pet the cat.  
  
“Cats know, dude. It’s only polite to greet the master of the house first,” Jooheon flashes a toothy smile and holds out a perfectly wrapped present. “Happy house warming! I got you a gift.”  
  
“Thank you! Come in, make yourself at home!” Changkyun grins back at him, makes grabby hands towards Jooheon’s gift and immediately rips opens the present. “Oh, haha. Very funny Jooheonie.”  
  
It’s a model red telephone booth. As if he didn’t have Kihyun’s phone call on his mind for the past few weeks. It’s the thought that counts, of course. Changkyun pulls the red telephone booth out of the box and places it on the coffee table next to the cat toys. (The living room is practically the cat’s room now.)  
  
“Are you going to give me a tour?” Jooheon says as he looks around eagerly.  
  
Changkyun leads Jooheon into his living area, where he shares the story of his short lived stint with having plants in his apartment (Apparently plants need sun and water to not die, who would have guessed). The empty floating shelves on the walls were meant for books but have become some kind of makeshift obstacle course for the cat. He proudly shows off both his bedrooms, which have been decorated with very cohesive colours that would make even the most intense Pinterest enthusiasts weep (in Changkyun’s opinion). They walk into practically unused kitchen, where he brings Jooheon’s attention to a fancy charcuterie board he found in a Jeju Island thrift shop, and finally of course his study, where his leather chair is, before they take a seat in the dining room for dinner.  
  
“How did you even find this job anyway?” Changkyun asks as he puts the porridge in the microwave. Abalone. The expensive goods.  
  
“Kihyun hyung approached me actually,” Jooheon says, watching the bowl spin in the microwave.  
  
“Oh, what for?”  
  
“A real estate scam in São Paulo. It was nowhere near as crazy as your first job, the most we did was pretend we were Japanese for a little while, the white people can’t tell the difference,” Jooheon shakes his head.  
  
“You speak Portuguese?” Changkyun says, bewildered. An image of Jooheon trying to sell property in a Brazilian hinterland comes to mind. It’s not exactly something that Changkyun would have pictured as a first job, but then again, a mafia drug heist is hardly beginner level.  
  
“Not really, but Kihyun hyung does and Hyungwon knows the basic stuff, he taught me ‘ _obrigado’_ ,” Jooheon shrugs.  
  
Changkyun freezes. “ _What?_ ”  
  
“Oh, ‘ _obrigado’_ means ‘thank you’–”  
  
“No, no, no. Kihyun speaks Portuguese?”  
  
“Didn’t you know?” Jooheon’s eyes widen and Changkyun shakes his head. “He’s a polyglot. That’s what he does mostly, speaking and translation. He’s quite good actually. In fact I think he taught himself Portuguese just for that scheme, but I’m pretty sure he speaks more than just three languages.”  
  
Changkyun always knew that Kihyun is a smooth talker, he could probably sell Hinduism to the Pope if he set his mind to it. The language thing however, is definitely news to him, maybe this was why the one of the first things Kihyun asked him when they first met was about his language skills. “ _Huh”_ , he thinks to himself as he takes the porridge out of the microwave and offers one of the bowls to Jooheon. “Really? Him? With his lisp? Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”  
  
“You’d be surprised,” Jooheon says as he begins the stir the contents of his bowl. “I heard from Minhyuk hyung that Kihyun hyung taught himself Mandarin and Japanese as a kid so that he could read Journey to the West in the original text and the entire anthology of Osamu Tezuka. I’ve also definitely heard him use some Spanish when we were in South America.”

“What a nerd,” Changkyun frowns.  
  
“Yes. He is definitely a nerd,” Jooheon agrees.  
  
Changkyun hadn’t really thought about how little he knows about Kihyun. Although they were roommates during the last scheme, Changkyun doesn’t even recall ever seeing him asleep. Does Kihyun even sleep? Does he even breathe? Is he secretly a robot? All this has yet to be verified.

“Apparently Kihyun hyung also lived in America at one point, and that’s all I know about him. I think Minhyuk hyung was in France for a short while, so he knows some French. That’s where he met Hyungwon I believe, Minhyuk hyung was a painter and Hyungwon had a short stint as an acupuncturist? Or was it an actor? Maybe it was the other way around… I dunno. I could be making that part up,” Jooheon shrugs.  
  
“Wonho hyung spent pretty much his whole life in Korea as far as I know, but he travelled a lot, especially since he started this job, and I don’t know much about Shownu hyung except that he’s known Kihyun hyung the longest.”  
  
It is very interesting to hear everybody’s history prior to the stars aligning to form this strange little constellation of bandits, but none of it really matters anymore. Changkyun intends to decline Kihyun’s invitation. Tomorrow he will text Kihyun “ _Sorry, I don’t think I should do it”_ and that will be the end of it. After the last scheme, Changkyun went to the doctor’s to get his head checked out. He is alright, thank goodness. It seems like Hyungwon totally knew what he was doing, because he was able to hit Changkyun just hard enough to knock him out without causing any real damage. If anything Jooheon said about his stint in acupuncture is to be believed, that would make some sense, but Changkyun isn’t taking any chances. Twice is more than enough.  
  
So of course, just as Changkyun is thinking about how he’s going to say no to Kihyun, Jooheon had to bring up Kihyun’s latest attempt to get everyone on board his new business plan.  
  
“Did Kihyun hyung contact you about his new scheme?”  
  
Changkyun snaps out of his daydream. “Yeah, but I don’t think I will do it. I nearly died the last time.” Which, for once in his life, is not an exaggeration.  
  
“You know that you’re really good at what you do, right? I wouldn’t have recommended you otherwise,” Jooheon pouts.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m just…” _unsur_ e is what Changkyun wants to say. It went well previously, but who’s to say it will go well again? Kihyun is pretty ridiculous, the budgets for his schemes rival only Marvel movies, so there’s a good chance that things are going to be pretty ridiculous with this one as well.  
  
Changkyun has never felt this uncertain about something before. He has always maintained a certain level of confidence, it’s necessary for the bullshitting to work after all, and yet somehow, Kihyun’s very overstated confidence has him doubting himself. It’s like double impostor syndrome.  
  
“I’m thinking about trying something else actually,” Changkyun says quickly.

“Oh really?” Jooheon raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Like what?”  


“Maybe pick up a skill? Some kind of trade?”  
  
“Oh. I know what you mean. My car broke down the other day and I couldn’t do anything about it while I was waiting for it to be towed off. That BA in History didn’t seem very useful then,” Jooheon agrees. “Didn’t you used to study engineering back in school?”  
  
God, Changkyun had almost forgotten about that. Despite the four years of pain and suffering, he blocked out most of it. It seems like an entire lifetime ago, back when he was just a bored, stupid teenager who just went for the first thing he got into just because he made the cut. How he managed to actually get something out of it is another great mystery.  
  
“I did,” Changkyun says, trying to recall even one incident from his university days that was actually about his supposed major and not a house party. “But I never pursued it after I graduated. I don’t even know where my diploma is.”  
  
“I feel like knowing how to fix your car would be more useful than whatever it is I did back in school. I wouldn’t mind learning how to do it,” Jooheon sighs and twiddles his thumbs together.  
  
“Same.”  
  
“Are you serious about that? Because I know a place that has an opening for an apprentice,” Jooheon says.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s a fairly new opening, so they don’t have it listed anywhere yet. No experience required, maybe you can give it a go? Only if you want to, of course. You should only be doing things that you want to do. Life is too short to be doing shitty things,” Jooheon says.  
  
Absolutely. Life is too short to waste thinking about whether or not he should be a con artist, let alone one like Kihyun. In a sense, Kihyun is just a bigger and more refined bullshitter than Changkyun is. Just because he’s a little bit better Changkyun at languages and can watch anime without subtitles doesn’t mean he’s that important. Kihyun isn’t _that_ special.  
  
“Yeah, why not,” shrugs Changkyun. What does he have to lose at this point. He quite literally has nothing better to do with his life.  
  
“Great! I’ll introduce you!” Jooheon offers immediately.  
  
This is an opportunity to start fresh, perhaps now he can find some proper use of his time instead of those nonsense Instalives. Sure, Changkyun can’t tell you the difference between a properly assembled engine and a pineapple, but that can change with training. This shouldn’t be much more difficult than conning a drug dealer, and he already did that.

The next day, Jooheon texts Changkyun a name and an address. The place is all the way on the edge of Seoul. So after an hour and a half long train ride into the boonies and a particularly treacherous journey through a muddy cabbage patch (courtesy of Naver Maps), he finally finds what he is looking for– Park Heavy Industries.  
  
He peeps into the garage. It’s big, but empty. The sounds of whirring engines fill his ears and the scent of motor oil is in the air. Rows and rows of cars and even some other larger vehicles, all in various stages of being repaired. “Hi, I’m looking for Park Jimin?” Changkyun says uncertainly to the only visible person in the garage, a man who is hunched over the hood of a car.  
  
“Oh! Oh yes, we’ve been expecting you,” he replies politely before yelling towards to back of the building. “Hey! Jimin!”  
  
A few moments later, the man named Jimin pops up from behind another truck and approaches him. He is very cute, like a baby chick, wearing a dark grey jumpsuit, only about as tall as Changkyun and moves with such overflowing charisma that it’s practically oozing out of every step he takes.  
  
“You must be Changkyun!” Jimin smiles.  
  
Jimin has a very hypnotizing aura, it’s hard not to be drawn into his words. “Yeah, that’s me,” Changkyun replies.  
  
They exchange some polite greetings and Jimin shows him around the garage. Apparently this is the Park family business and Jimin is a third generation mechanic. They service all sorts of vehicles here, not just cars, they also do trucks, motorbikes, buses. It’s all much more interesting than he had anticipated and much to Changkyun’s surprise, he’s actually having a lot of fun listening to Jimin talk about the mechanics of it all, perhaps this is just the secret engineering part of his brain finally being given the time to shine.  
  
From then on, Changkyun shows up to the garage every day. He doesn’t get paid much, just enough to cover expenses, but he doesn’t really need the money. It’s more of a way to spend his time now. Jimin personally shows him the ropes, how to change the engine oil, replace spark plugs, check the batteries. He’s a tough teacher and is prone to bouts of sarcasm, but is generally quite patient. At one point, he shows Changkyun how to work the vehicle lift in order to access those hard to reach places of a car, and they take apart one of the cars and put it all back together again just because.  
  
“If you are as skilled with a wrench as you are at bullshitting, you might just go places,” Jimin says to him one day as Changkyun just finishing up one of his routine jobs.  
  
Changkyun smiles weakly. He’s definitely heard a variation of that line before throughout his entire life.  
  
“But seriously, You really have a knack for this. At this rate, you might be able to get under the hood of my baby,” Jimin smiles and then motions for Changkyun to follow him.  
  
They walk into another garage. Changkyun doesn’t really know what to expect, but what he sees far exceeds anything he could have imagined. Airplanes. But not just any airplanes, high-performance aerobatic planes, the kinds you see spewing out coloured smoke during some kind of celebratory event or sky writing someone’s ridiculously expensive marriage proposal. This is the first time Changkyun has seen such planes in person and Jimin has three of them in his garage. They have this odd sense of life to them and really suit him for some reason.  
  
“No way, you helped to build these things?” Changkyun says in awe.  
  
“The cars are the bread and butter of my operation, but I’ve always set my heart on the skies.” Jimin says, fondly patting the body of one of the planes. “Would you like to give it a go?”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
Jimin’s passion is infectious. He describes the planes with so much love that Changkyun finds himself diving deeper into these planes just because of Jimin’s sheer enthusiasm. He even starts searching up plane models and specs and watching YouTube videos of the planes flying on his own time. One of the days, Jimin even flies one of the planes, giving Changkyun a little demonstration of what it can do. Before long, they begin working exclusively on the planes and the cars are quickly a thing of the past.

“Propellers are a very delicate instrument. Every element from the tightness of a single screw to the way you apply the oil makes a difference in how high and far she goes,” Jimin says tenderly as they are cleaning one of the planes. “These planes are the most beautiful machine humankind ever conceived, a marriage of heavy engineering and fluid dynamics. Absolute poetry in motion.”  
  
“When you’re in the sky, it’s like you’re leaving behind your obligations on the ground. Nothing else comes close to that feeling of liberation for me. Being up in the air unbounded by anything, that is the greatest freedom.”  
  
“How long have you been here, Changkyun?” Jimin asks just as they are finishing up.  
  
“Oh, um… two months I think?” Changkyun frowns.  
  
“Really? Gosh, I thought it was two years! Time really flies,” Jimin’s eyes sparkle, he seems even more enthusiastic than usual. “You know, you’re an absolute natural at this. I have an assignment, one of my clients is looking for a mechanic to service one of his planes and I recommended you.”  
  
“Really? But I’ve only been here two months. Why aren’t you going yourself?” Changkyun asks.  


“I can’t leave my garage,” Jimin explains, shaking his head slowly. “Besides, this is a great chance to go out there and see the world. It’s a relatively simple job, just the basics. Who knows? It might lead to something bigger!”  
  
Wow, that was fast, Changkyun didn’t think he would climbing up the ladder this soon, but hey, a job is a job. “That sounds great. Thank you so much for trusting me!”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
Jimin sends him the details of the client. Someone named Mr. Son, a supposed former hedge fund manager but he does other kinds of investments now. He seems to doing very well for himself, because he even arranged to fly Changkyun over via private jet. See Kihyun? There are other things that Changkyun is capable of, he has other talents! Just because he has the ability to use his skills for mendacious purposes, doesn’t mean that he should. Changkyun is absolutely thrilled at the prospect even though he has been in a private jet once before.  
  
On the day of the flight, he grabs his passport, a suitcase filled with summer clothing (Apparently this is somewhere tropical), takes his cat to a pet hotel and it’s time to head to the airport. The pilot greets Changkyun with a smile. He looks familiar, but it’s probably the uniform he thinks. The plane itself is pristine, leather chairs and plush carpets and bottles of chilled spring water set out for him in readiness, all available at his fingertips. It seems like he has been here before, but it’s probably just his imagination. This is only the second time Changkyun has been on a private jet but he should consider making this a regular thing. How much does it cost to charter planes or maybe even buy one outright? Greta Thunberg wouldn’t be too pleased about this, but you know what, maybe Changkyun can consider buying a yacht at some point if he’s feeling like lowering his carbon footprint without having to forgo the extravagance.  
  
The flight itself is great, smooth as silk. Any anxieties that he felt regarding this new trajectory of his life have been wiped out. Changkyun feels absolutely inspired. He doesn’t need Kihyun, he doesn’t need that life! There’s no need for the hustle, no more outrageous affairs. He’s feeling quite good about this new line of work, and if he continues to get opportunities like this, the future is looking bright. In fact, this trip is practically a paid vacation! Changkyun has been looking forward to this for weeks now, and he can’t wait feel the breeze in his hair and sand in his toes.  
  
Several hours later, the pilot announces that they will be landing shortly. The moment they touchdown, Changkyun grabs his bags, thanks the pilot and hops onto the staircase to get off the plane.

And then his smile begins to fade.  
  
In front him is a man standing with his arms crossed, looking radiant and golden with his perfectly styled dark brown hair. He is wearing Birkenstocks along with Bermuda shorts and a pale blue linen shirt, a pair of gold rimmed aviator sunglasses perched upon his straight pointed nose. Despite his best efforts to change up his personal style, Changkyun can recognize those damn dimples anywhere.  
  
“Hello Changkyun.”

“You are fucking joking,” Changkyun frowns deeply, fingers pressing against his temples to stave off whatever tornado of a headache he can feel slowly building up. “What the hell are you doing here, Yoo Kihyun.”  
  
“Enlisting your help to guide us towards something more commercially advantageous,” Kihyun grins.  
  
“You pretentious prick. Why do you talk like that? Nobody talks like that! What is going on?” Changkyuns squints at him suspiciously.  
  
“Did you not research the name of the person you were working for? Park Jimin of Park Heavy Industries? He is Yoongi, or should I say, Suga’s acquaintance,” Kihyun explains drily.  
  
Dammit. This Suga guy again. Changkyun thought he was the tiger guy. What else does this Suga person do? He seems to be Kihyun’s guy. You know the ones. Everyone has one of those guys, the guy who knows a guy for everything.  
  
“I can’t believe you right now,” Changkyun groans, dragging his palms down his cheeks.  
  
“Come on, Changkyun. Did you seriously think you were good enough to be an actual mechanic after two months of training? We only had you trained so that you could pass for one. Stop fooling yourself, you are a confidence man!”  
  
“That still doesn’t explain what you are doing here!”  
  
“Did you not recognize the jet? Or the pilot? Or even this place?” Kihyun sighs, looking at him like an exhausted parent trying to convince their child at the playground that it’s time to go home.  
  
Changkyun takes quick a look around, observing the coconut palms swaying in the wind and giant trees with red and yellow flowers.  
  
“This is Shownu hyung’s private island.”  
  
“FUCK.”  
  
This explains all the déjà vu he has been experiencing up until this point: the whole conversation with Jooheon in his apartment, the introduction to another person, the mad dash across the city, and now the damn trees on this island. God. This man is unbelievable. Dammit Jooheon, that’s two strikes now.  
  
(Not that Changkyun would ever act on it, he’ll just keep giving Jooheon strikes until he loses count.)  
  
“This is aging me,” Changkyun scowls.

“Okay, I’ll sweeten the deal. You can take a backseat. All you need to do is come with us, relax and we will only summon you if necessary.” Kihyun says.  
  
This incredulous bastard. After a few more moments of boring into Kihyun's unflinching gaze, Changkyun finally relents. “ _Fine_ , I’ll come with you,” he grunts as he walks down the staircase. He hopes Kihyun is right, but knowing him, he will probably find a way to drag Changkyun into it. Kihyun seems pleased with this answer, and gestures for Changkyun to follow him and they both walk across the beach to Shownu’s villa.  
  
“So what is it this time?” Changkyun asks, dragging his suitcase behind him with the enthusiasm of a middle schooler being asked by their parent to take out the trash. “If we are dealing with drugs again, I will defenestrate you.”  
  
Kihyun snickers, like he knows that that could be an actual possibility and not just some poorly thought out threat that Changkyun pulled out of his head at the last minute, turns back to give Changkyun that smug grin that he knows all too well by now.

“Are you a gambling man?”  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all ck’s dreams are actual dreams i’ve had about the monsta x members. (but unlike ck’s dreams, mine are neither erotic nor kinky. just very, very stupid.)
> 
> ck’s bs moves inspired by oobah butler
> 
> lmao jimin and the planes are a reference to bts american hustle life, what can i say, im a multi stan.
> 
> also fml the recent changki unit fatal love concept photos. super hot, my dudes. perfect. 10 points out of 10. in fact, let's make it 20 out of 10. why not, im feeling generous today.
> 
>  **i am back on temporary hiatus for this because my life decided to pick up again and sadly i wont be able to give this as much attention as i would like for now. I WILL BE BACK. hopefully sooner rather than later.**
> 
> lmk your thoughts! i'd love to hear them. C:


	6. Airplane Mode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the second scheme: the amazing (air) race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. its been a little while. life was doing it’s thing, as life does. during that mini hiatus i made some edits to chapters 1-4, made things a little more streamlined, fixed typos, added a little more cohesiveness. the main story remains the same of course. ck is still full of BS, kh is still a phantom and everyone is still a phoney. 
> 
> the schemes move pretty fast, but these two clowns are pretty damn slow. also, we’re going full crazy rich asians for this. please welcome a guest for this scheme, who i have aged up a little bit. because it’ll happen one day at some point, y’know.
> 
> cheerfully,  
> n
> 
> **WARNING: Mentions of racism. The conversation in this does not in any way reflect my personal opinions.**

Changkyun must have gotten more sun in the past five minutes than he ever has in the past five years just from the walk from the jet to Shownu’s villa alone. He looks over to Kihyun, who is practically glowing (or maybe that’s highlighter) under the sweltering heat, how he still manages to look as fresh a summer peach is another one of life’s greatest unanswered questions. As they walk across the beach, he’s thinking about how the hell he was lured into Kihyun's trap like a back alley raccoon.  
  
“You can’t just drag people out to do your bidding like this,” he hisses. “I’ve been very busy. I have a life too, you know.”  
  
“Really? What have you been doing,” Kihyun responds.  
  
“I started an Instagram!”  
  
“You only have twelve followers.”  
  
“Don’t mock me! You know who else had twelve followers??”  
  
For some reason Kihyun finds Changkyun’s self-comparison to Jesus very amusing because he bursts into laughter, as if Changkyun didn’t need any more reasons to strangle this bastard. Well, this is his life now, it’s not like he has any other routes off this island. Perhaps this time Changkyun can settle all the uncertainty he felt regarding this lifestyle that has him popping everything from champagne to stress pimples.  
  
As soon as they enter the villa, Changkyun hears some familiar voices and sees that the whole circus is back in town to listen to whatever fuckery Kihyun has been planning for the past few months. 

“Welcome back, Changkyunnie! I see that you’re just as pure as the day we left you,” Minhyuk cackles. His hair is snow white now, not sure if because of fashion or stress, but it’s a good look on him.  
  
“Shut up, I’m just here for the money,” Changkyun hisses at him.  
  
“That’s cute,” Hyungwon smirks softly and looks over to Kihyun who ignores him and walks over to the TV to set up his presentation.

It’s quite the reunion, everyone looks more or less the same just with some changes to their hairstyles and wardrobe. Shownu is on the couch, the best seat in the house, this is his villa after all. Wonho is beside him and gives Changkyun a small, polite wave when their eyes meet. Hyungwon’s hair is dark now and he looks even more regal than Changkyun remembers. Minhyuk is sitting crossed legged next to him, the whale tattoo on his knee proudly on display. Of course Jooheon is there as well, he’s looking fine and gives Changkyun a sheepish smile just as Changkyun takes a seat.  
  
Trust Kihyun to prepare a whole slideshow on their next scheme. His first slide is already on display– a photograph of two men in front of a very lush looking background, one of them is frowning and the other one seems a bit too happy to be there. He pulls out a laser pointer pen from his pocket, clears his throat and begins:  
  
“This weasel right here is Charles Eames and the happy-go-lucky one is his brother, Ray. Charles over here is the sole administrator of the No Mercy Air Race–”  
  
“Air racing?”  
_  
_ “Think of it as the Formula One of the skies, the sport of a daredevil’s dreams! Competitors go head to head to see who can come out with the best time or score the most points. It’s quite exhilarating,” Kihyun replies, now happily twirling the pen in between his fingers. 

“In 2 months, we will be participating in the Singapore leg of the race where we will lure them into our underground casino and then take them out for their entire fortune of 200 million dollars!”  
  
_“200 million??”  
_  
Honestly, Changkyun doesn’t even know why he’s surprised because he really should have expected this by now. Kihyun doesn’t even look at anyone whose net worth isn’t followed by at least eight zeros. 200 million is some serious cash, but Kihyun never misses a hustle; he is the living embodiment of “go big or go home.” At least Changkyun is being let in on the plan now. Somewhat. If you ignore the part where he was tricked onto Shownu’s private island again.  
  
This time he gets to watch some actual pros at work. Changkyun is still very new to these high stakes confidence games having barely gotten his feet wet the last round and this is a welcome change of pace for him. Wonho and Shownu are going to be doing most of the legwork for their fake air racing team. Even though Kihyun told him that he can take it easy for at least the first half of this, in an absolute worst case scenario, Changkyun did learn from his stint at the garage how to properly use a parachute.  
  
And so, two months later, they make their way to Singapore. It’s hot and humid and they drink bubble tea here like water. Changkyun knows this as the place where they filmed Crazy Rich Asians, and since Kihyun is all three of those things, he should fit in quite nicely.

After a seven hour flight from Incheon, they check into their 4 bedroom suite at the Marina Bay Sands. The setup of this suite is even more exquisite than their previous hotel, they even have a pillow menu and a private gym within the suite, truly next level stuff.According to Shownu, who handles the accounts, this a panoramic view of Singapore skyline that costs more than a 15,000 dollars a night. Holy shit. The way he keeps spending money, no wonder Kihyun is always hustling.  
  
The day of the prelims, they (literally) drag Hyungwon out of bed and head over to the racing venue which is actually only a ten minute walk from their hotel even though the whole journey feels like an hour in this ridiculous weather. Changkyun feels like he’s drowning in the humidity half the time. It rains quite a bit, short tropical thunderstorms, but the skies clear relatively quickly and once Changkyun accepts the fact that he simply can’t walk anywhere for 2 minutes without being drenched in his own sweat, it’s manageable.  
  
The roads have been blocked off specifically for the race but they are a bit late to the show (no thanks to Hyungwon) and most of the good spots are taken. Hyungwon, Jooheon, Minhyuk, Changkyun and Kihyun eventually end up against the barricades near the finish line, as close as they can get to the huge screens that display live footage of the race. Everyone is doused in sunscreen while Kihyun is hiding under a bright purple UV ray blocking parasol (their team colours).

“Why do you even have that?” Changkyun says pointing to Kihyun’s parasol.  
  
“The sun is very damaging to the skin, you know,” Kihyun says and holds up the parasol, inviting him to come into shade but Changkyun just sniffs and scoots even further away from him.  
  
It’s a great day for races, the skies are clear and the sun is out. The preliminary race is an obstacle course covers the whole of the nearby marina and the contestants have to fly through it within a given timeframe in order to move on to the next round. There’s the scent of some kind of fried street food is coming from somewhere and it’s making Changkyun hungry, but it’s their mark, Ray’s turn to fly and so he can’t sneak off to get food right now.  
  
“Look at this hotshot,” Minhyuk points to where Ray is beaming brightly on the screen. He seems to be very popular because everyone in the crowd is cheering for him like he’s some kind of celebrity  
  
It seems all that cheering is very much warranted. Ray is incredibly confident in the air, weaving around the obstacle course like it’s nothing. Even the camera seems to have trouble keeping up with him as he flies into some of the tighter spots. The crowd is absolutely delighted, screaming and cheering every time he goes over them. Sometimes he looks like he’s coming dangerously close to the buildings and Changkyun can feel everyone hold their breaths a little bit, but the man has absolutely impeccable control of his aircraft, and zooms right in between towers with inches to spare and it’s mesmerizing to watch. Finally, he goes across the finish line with a little puff of white smoke. Clean. Smooth. Perfect. Ten out of ten.

**Ray EAMES Time: 1.14  
  
**“Those are some pretty impressive moves. He didn’t even break a sweat,” Hyungwon nods as he claps along politely with everyone in the crowd. Changkyun has noticed that Hyungwon seems a little more tense than he was the last time they were in London.  
  
“That’s Ray for you, he’s the undefeated champion at just twenty-five years old. Kind of an idol in the world or air racing,” Kihyun says and points towards one of the towers with a particularly large glass window.  
  
“His brother, Charles, aged twenty seven, is watching from the VIP booth in that tower. Organizer of this whole tournament and owner of Ray’s team. They were royalty back in their native land, until they got themselves driven out and disowned.”  
  
“But Ray is a genuinely phenomenal pilot and his brother is a true PR genius. They bought up an entire air race that went under several years ago and resurrected it, renamed it the No Mercy Air Race.”  
  
“How did they even get it off the ground?” Changkyun asks.  
  
“Money. They paid off their opponents and had them throw the races.” Kihyun explains as he twirls his parasol.  
  
“Isn’t that match fixing?”  
  
“In a sense, or you could also look at it as scripted exhibition. Charles controls the outcome of every race while his brother continues to shine on as the unmatched prince of the air. And thanks to his aforementioned PR prowess, air racing is set to become the next big thing in sports.”  
  
“What about the other pilots?”  
  
“Everyone is in on it. They get paid handsomely and have no reason to complain. Well, except for one of course.”  
  
“Who is that?”  
  
“Ray’s sworn rival of the skies, an American pilot named Vernon Chwe. He declared he’d do whatever it takes to take him down, but in reality he has never beaten him in the finals.” Kihyun says, now tapping the handle of his parasol. “He cuts a frightening figure, but he donates plenty of his earnings to various mental health and refugee charities. He’s kind of the perfect villain for Ray, he even looks the part.”  
  
Kihyun pulls up a photo of Vernon on his phone. An older man with the permanent scowl on his face and was probably quite handsome in his youth. He does look like he’s seen quite a few things in his lifetime.  
  
“And the fans rejoice when he loses?” Changkyun asks as Kihyun puts his phone away.  
  
“Pretty much, but that changed in the Australian leg of the race a couple years back. Vernon didn’t seem to be his usual self. Perhaps he was getting tired of the fixed races, or maybe the prize money was just too tempting, but for whatever reason, he slipped past Ray and went straight for the finish line. That was the first and last time he ever did that. Everyone thought the race was his, that is until the last minute, when his propeller began to fail, and then he came crashing down the ground.”  
  
Changkyun winces at the mental image. “And you think it was on purpose?”  
  
Kihyun nods. “It was Charles who was meting out punishment for disobeying him.”  
  
“So what happened to Vernon after that?”  
  
“He survived the incident by the skin of his teeth, but he won’t be able to walk again, let alone fly.” Kihyun adds solemnly before turning to beam at Changkyun, “So now, we are going to have Wonho knock Ray down a peg or two and in order to do that, he will have to pass the prelims.”  
  
Changkyun blinks tiredly, Kihyun says it like it’s so simple but that couldn’t be further from the truth. A few more contestants take to the skies and everyone seems to be showing off a little bit because the stunts are getting more and more wild: squeezing in between buildings, barely skimming over the water surface at the marina, some of them even doing spins like they are in some kind of ballet. It’s all so flashy and over the top and the tricks do provide a good show but so far none of the participants are close to beating Ray’s time.  
  
“Oh, Wonho hyung is up next,” Jooheon mentions, pointing to the screen.  
  
“Kick his ass!” Hyungwon yells form his spot, the first thing that he has said all day. Not that Wonho could hear him from where they stand, but Wonho also– doesn’t look quite right.  
  
Changkyun looks up at the screen to see Wonho’s face splashed across it. He seems tense, something in his eyes looks a little off despite the smile he’s putting on, but the crowd doesn't seem to notice this. It appears that Wonho is quite popular already, especially for someone who hasn’t been flying for all that long. Changkyun can hear people are cheering for him from where they are standing and there are even spectators holding up signs in support of him like they are in some kind of concert.  
  
Wonho gets into the plane and takes off. He’s a bit shaky, not nearly as smooth as Ray or most of the previous contestants, but he manages to stabilize himself a little bit more in the air. He starts off pretty solid, flying in between the beacons relatively smoothly.  
  
“Wow, look at him go!” Minhyuk cheers.  
  
Wonho flies higher and zooms in between some buildings. His moves are much more jerky than the other contestants and he is taking much bolder risks, but that’s probably due to nerves. As apposed to Ray’s earlier performace, Wonho’s is much closer to “falling with style.”  
  
“Damn, boy. Keep it together,” Hyungwon whispers.

He manages to pull off a little spin and the whole crowd roars. Hyungwon is clapping very enthusiastically, screaming something that Changkyun can’t really make out. And then after all of that jazz, Wonho manages to land on the ground relatively smoothly, all things considered. The wheels of his plane finally kiss the tarmac and he goes past the finish line.  
  
**Hoseok LEE Time: 1.25  
  
**“Talk about cutting it close,” Jooheon says.  
  
“Well, he made the cutoff, so that’s good,” Kihyun claps politely.  
  
They watch Wonho climb out of the plane and he is visibly shaking, all colour completely drained from his face and he looks very close to losing it, but somehow manages to maintain a shred of composure to not fall over himself as he is helped out by Shownu, who is playing the role of team manager.  
  
“He doesn’t look very good,” Changkyun squints.  
  
“He cleared the pre-race physical, so he’s probably just tired?” Jooheon looks over towards Minhyuk for clarification.  
  
“Hmm, maybe. But I’m actually extremely surprised that Wonho agreed to do this,” Minhyuk says.  
  
“Why is that?” Changkyun asks, curious.  
  
“He’s deathly afraid of heights,” Hyungwon explains, eyes narrowing on Wonho.

Changkyun’s eyes go straight to Kihyun, who is unashamedly twirling his parasol again. Pushing people towards doing something beyond what they are comfortable with? This is 100% Kihyun’s bullshit. This selfish son of a bitch doesn’t care about how anyone is faring as long as he gets his way. Who cares about people dying, right? In fact, Kihyun doesn’t even die when he is killed.  
  
“Are you insane? This is a fucking dogfight. How many races is he going to have to endure before he can get to Ray? There’s no way he will breeze through if he continues to come out in this condition.” Changkyun hisses.

“Oh, he will,” Kihyun says confidently.  
  
“How can you be so sure?”  
  
“Because he’s is already making history as the first East Asian to compete in this.”  
  
They all look back at Wonho, who managed to get out of the plane in one piece. He is with Shownu now, the both of them waving to the crowd together, to the cameras. Shownu’s calm energy seems to be helping him out a lot and Wonho looks very relieved to be on the ground again.  
  
“You’d think that they would have opened up sooner, but up until recently, this competition was a very exclusive club. There have been contestants of Asian heritage before, but they always represented countries from the Anglosphere. This is the first time there is a whole team from this region, which seems to be kind of a big deal for the global expansion of the sport.”  
  
“Charles seems to have noticed this as well because Wonho has been receiving a lot more attention than the other contestants, and he cannot resist some new meat because you know what those boys love the most? Sports cars, cool planes, kittens, steak, sex, gambling and of course – K-pop,” Kihyun says confidently.  
  
“You are out of your mind,” Changkyun groans, pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “But even so, they don’t seem like the kind of people who would be interested in men.”

“Have you _seen_ Wonho, though?” Hyungwon sighs.  
  
Changkyun was initially very intimidated by Wonho, but he soon realized that there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of. He hasn’t spoken to him very much outside of a polite “hello”, from the way Wonho interacts with everyone else, he is every bit as delicate as Changkyun thought he was when he scammed him the first time. He has yet to confirm this, but Changkyun has a feeling that Wonho is the kind of person who would beat someone up for you and then take you out for ice cream immediately afterwards to cheer you up.  
  
He is also ridiculously hot, his skin is so smooth and shiny like a dolphin. He also has muscles in places Changkyun never knew you could have muscles. If Changkyun saw him at the gym, he would go to the gym every day just to look at him. Hyungwon definitely has a point.  
  
“Fair enough,” Changkyun shrugs and looks back up to the sky.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The view from the top is truly spectacular, it’s like the ugliness down below doesn’t even exist, just endless glittering lights that just go off into the horizon blending seamlessly into the night sky. There is no one at the rooftop infinity pool of the Marina Bay Sands but the Eames brothers, their guests and some hotel staff, high above the rest of the world, staring out at everything that money can buy.  
  
“There’s so much hatred in this world and not nearly enough love. Which is why tonight, I’m taking all of you to bed with me!” Ray announces to his guests, who are all giggling with glee, sipping champagne as they swim around pool.  
  
His brother on the other hand, isn’t quite as excited about the prospect, and is laying on the pool lounger scrolling through his phone. “You better pace yourself, Ray.”  
  
“Why? Afraid I won’t make it tomorrow? Either way, I’m going be on top,” Ray laughs as he wades towards him.  
  
Charles huffs as Ray and hands the phone over to his brother. “They are slamming you on social media, take a look at the comments on your most recent post.”  
  
**@imnameim** _There’s no point watching this, Ray will win it anyway.  
  
_**@go5rae** _I probably won’t watch, we all know what’s going to happen  
  
_**@yookihhh** _Call me when there is some actual competition.  
  
_**@joohoney** _This is the decline of the No Mercy Air Race._

**@dj_h.one** _I’d rather see Vernon fly.  
_  
  
(Meanwhile, back in the hotel suite, Changkyun, Minhyuk, Kihyun, Jooheon and Hyungwon are all bent over a good 5 cell phones each, sending out social media captions on Instagram as fast as their fingers can type them.)  
  
The brothers’ party is interrupted by the presence of two uninvited guests; Shownu and Wonho just showed up at the pool for an evening swim.  
  
“I’m terribly sorry, sir. The pool is closed for a private event,” one of the hotel staff apologizes to them.  
  
Shown frowns at him. “Excuse me, this is the first time I’m hearing of such a thing. We are paying guests at this hotel too, you know!” But the man just offers his apologies once more and tries to escort them off the premises.  
  
“Ray, send your guests away,” Charles says, eyes narrowing on Shownu and Wonho as they try to reason with the hotel staff. “We have business to take care of.” Ray nods slowly and quickly ushers the guests out of the water, whispering something about joining them later.  
  
“Arent you the Korean pilot from today? Come, have a drink with us!” Ray shouts from the pool.  
  
Wonho and Shownu exchange looks. The staff quickly apologizes to them and moves out the way. Ray seems to have taken a liking to Wonho, and understandably so. He gets out of the pool and pulls Wonho to his side, eyes glittering like he just landed the greatest prize at the fun fair.  
  
“You could use a bit of practice, but you’ve got the skills,” Ray tells Wonho enthusiastically, and Wonho just smiles sheepishly at him.  
  
They take off to another corner of the pool. With Ray taken care of, Shownu takes this chance to speak with Charles alone. “Has the tournament bracket been finalized?” he smiles softly as he takes a seat on the pool lounger next to Charles.  
  
“The judges will be drafting it at random,” Charles replies, eyes focused on Ray who is still busy chatting up Wonho.  
  
“Is that so? I heard an interesting rumour. Don’t be mad– that this air race is fixed. Apparently there’s someone who has a final say in who makes it to the next round,” Shownu says, his voice soft but firm.  
  
“Such petty marketing tactics are a dime a dozen. Ray’s victories are due to his skill as a pilot.” Charles replies curtly, now looking directly at Shownu, who remains steady as ever.  
  
“I’m happy to follow the script. Sports are for entertainment after all,” he responds, calm.  
  
“You’re right about that. The masses simply won’t respond if they aren’t interested,” Charles says, now straightening up just slightly.  
  
“What do you think of my boy? Strictly from a PR perspective. The crowd’s eyes are definitely on him. In fact, I’d say they already are,” Shownu inches closer to him, their knees are almost touching now but Charles doesn’t move, simply turns his attention back towards Wonho and Ray who is is still chatting away while Wonho just smiles politely at him.  
  
“If he were able to make it up the finals against Ray, that would be truly special. I’m sure the fans would be delighted with something different. Consider it, will you?” Shownu whispers to him and slips a card into his pocket.

* * *

“You’re back!” Jooheon pipes from his seat.  
  
Everyone in the room looks up from their social media roasting session to welcome Shownu and Wonho back from their little outing at the pool. They are both smiling, which is a good sign. Changkyun puts down all three of the phones he has in his hands.  
  
“Yeah, he had twelve guys at the pool with him and then he invited all of them over to his hotel room for some kind of orgy,” Wonho shrugs.  
  
“Hmm, I’ve been in a room with twelve guys before,” Minhyuk nods. “It was no orgy but it sure was a cluster fuck.”

“How did it go?” Hyungwon waves Minhyuk off and looks eagerly at the both of them.  
  
“Done. Hook, line and sinker,” Shownu gives everyone a thumbs up.  
  
“Charles told Shownu hyung to meet him in the VIP booth tomorrow, trap is as good as set.” Wonho explains.  
  
“Wow, he didn’t even put up a fight,” Changkyun says, impressed.  
  
“Isn’t Shownu hyung great? He was born to be a con artist,” Kihyun beams like Christmas came early. “With this Wonho’s spot in the finals is secured and all we have to do now is get Charles into the casino. Minhyuk, how’s that coming along?”  
  
“The furniture is already here,” Minhyuk replies, now back to typing his final Instagram insult of the evening. “Hyungwon, Jooheon and I went to pick up some of the custom pieces earlier today. We’re ready to go whenever.”  
  
So this is how the pros do it, it almost seems effortless. Shownu and Wonho just went up there and used their combined powers of sexiness and seduction to make it all happen. Changkyun is definitely taking notes in his head. After another round of cheers everyone heads off to their respective rooms to retire for the evening.  
  
The next morning Wonho takes to the skies again in a tournament style competition. It’s a full out race now– two pilots will compete to see who crosses the finish line first. Wonho is the obvious underdog, the least experienced of all the pilots there, but Changkyun can see that he gained quite a few new fans since the prelims. Minhyuk, Jooheon, Kihyun, Changkyun and Hyungwon are seated on the bleachers in the stadium which has been set up specifically for this part of the competition. Everyone is looking up at the screen like they are watching some kind of concert.  
  
“Who is he up against?” Kihyun asks, the purple parasol is back in action and Changkyun is also hiding under it this time, the sun’s rays are no joke after all.  
  
“Someone called Taio Cruz?” Changkyun looks at the program booklet that he grabbed earlier.  
  
“Oh, a veteran. He should be able to lead Wonho in and out of the act no problem.”  
  
Everyone on the ground seems to be in a great spirits this morning, Kihyun even bought a round of bubble tea for everyone while they were waiting for the race to start. Meanwhile, Shownu and Charles are watching the race from the privacy of the VIP booth on the top floor of the nearby hotel. Before today’s race, everyone was fitted with an earpiece in order to keep in touch with each other on the job.  
  
“Where is your brother?” Shownu asks as he looks around the room. Ray is nowhere to be seen anywhere anywhere in the VIP booth.  
  
“He’s on the ground watching with the rest of his team since he isn’t racing today,” Charles smiles as he hands over a glass of champagne. “To scope out the newest pilot.”

“Of course, Hoseok breathes new life back into the sport after all,” Shownu says with a smile.  
  
“Indeed,” Charles grins back at him.  
  
Meanwhile, everyone in the stadium erupts in cheers the moment Wonho and his competitor take off.  
  
For the round of 16, the contestants will battle it out through a set route through the city, flying over buildings, rivers and expressways. So far so good, things are looking like it is going according to plan. Taio Cruz is ahead for now, but he is the veteran after all so it shouldn’t be surprising to watch him take the lead, at least in the beginning. 

“Great start, now Wonho just needs to catch up,” Kihyun says as he takes another sip of his drink.  
  
But then, he doesn’t. Taio Cruz seems inching further and further ahead of Wonho and Changkyun can see that everyone on the ground is beginning to worry just a little bit.  
  
Back in the VIP booth, Shownu frowns slightly at the screen on displaying the live footage of the race. Taio Cruz is way ahead now, and Wonho is clearly struggling to keep up. “Charles, this wasn’t part of the deal,” he says sternly.  
  
The room goes silent for a moment and then Charles smiles softly at the screen before looking back at Shownu with the most venomous gaze. “The gall of a pair of wet-behind-the-ears-upstarts trying to form a team and curry favour with me? Who the fuck do you think you are.”  
  
Well, fuck. Things were going far too smoothy and it was only a matter of time before something came up.  
  
“How many people do you think have approached me just like you, all of them after my money?” he snarls. “I call the shots here, understand? Air racing is not a sport for people like you, so go back to where you came from, you dog.”  
  
Meanwhile, back on the ground, the mood has changed.  
  
“Oh dear,” Kihyun mutters, tapping the receiver in his ear and look over to Minhyuk, who frowns deeply at what they all just heard.  
  
“What do we do?” Changkyun asks.

“Well, it’s out of our hands for now, let’s just see how this all plays out,” Kihyun answers, eyes narrowing on the screen.  
  
It’s not looking good, Wonho is visibly shaking from what they can see on the dash cam footage. Taio Cruz is zooming past him and if he wins this race, their whole scheme falls apart and it’ll all be over before it even truly began, and then–  
  
“Oh shit, he threw up on himself,” Jooheon winces.  
  
Jooheon is right, Wonho is clearly unwell. The live dash cam footage shows Wonho almost in tears. Wonho is still shaking and Changkyun looks over to Hyungwon, who is clearly distressed despite his attempts to hide it: his eyes are clear, but his fists are beginning to tremble slightly. Just as he leans over to say something to him, Hyungwon suddenly jumps up from his seat and screams at the top of his lungs, “FUCK HIM UP, HOSEOK!”  
  
Somehow, that seems to do it. Changkyun is not sure if they are connected via some kind of telepathy, maybe this is what happens when you work with someone for so long. Almost immediately after Hyungwon’s backseat scream of encouragement, Wonho’s plane seems to be steadier.  
  
“No way, he’s gaining speed–” Changkyun mutters, eyes still fixed on the screen.  
  
Wonho slowly pulls ahead, accelerating towards the finish line. Everyone holds their breath as they watch him.  
  
He’s flying in closer and closer and Taio Cruz is now flying in between two buildings– the final obstacle– but the gap in between is so narrow and there’s only room for the plans to fly in one at a time or risk crashing into each other. Changkyun can see absolutely no way for Wonho to catch up.  
  
And then all of a sudden Wonho pulls the most absolute daredevil stunt he has pulled so far: turning his plane 90 degrees and squeezing directly in between the two narrow buildings, directly next to Taio’s plane and the crowd goes absolutely wild.  
  
“What the FUCK was that?” Minhyuk shouts at the screen and grabs Jooheon and starts shaking him. “Did you know he could do that??”  
  
It’s still too close to call it. Taio Cruz is still in the lead, but not by much anymore. Wonho is inching in closer and closer and closer. Jooheon has closed his eyes. Kihyun’s eyes are fixed on the screen. Minhyuk is screaming. Hyungwon is also screaming. Everyone in the crowd is screaming, and then–  
  
The screen flashes bright purple: Round of 16 Match A Winner: Hoseok LEE. Time: 3:19.  
  
“Oh my God. He did it!” Minhyuk gasps and turns over to give Jooheon a celebratory hug. “Holy fucking shit, that crazy son of bitch did it!”  
  
Hyungwon falls back into his seat and presses the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. His face has gone white and he’s muttering something under his breath. Everyone in the stadium is now cheering and jumping for Wonho. Changkyun looks over to Kihyun’s seat, and despite the fact that he is the calmest of the lot, there is obvious relief on his face.  
  
It’s a victory for everyone. In the VIP booth, Shownu and Charles watch Wonho’s name flash across the television screen.  
  
Suddenly, Charles’s phone rings and he takes the call. It’s his brother, Ray on the line. “Oh my god, that man absolutely nailed it, I’ve never seen anyone fly like that ever!” he says. “The crowd here is going absolutely wild here!”  
  
Charles doesn’t respond immediately, simply continues to look at the screen with Wonho’s name on it.  
  
“That little dog is your biggest attraction right now, so I think you owe us an apology,” Shownu says firmly to Charles.  
  
Charles looks at Shownu and then back at the screen. The cameras are now showing Hoseok slowly climb out of the plan with the help of the ground staff. He seems to be relatively calm, considering everything that has happened so far.  
  
“The final race will be between Ray and Hoseok,” he says into the phone before putting it down.  
  
“Do not misunderstand, I am not racist by any means,” Charles grins softly. “I just think that certain people are better suited towards different roles, that’s all. But if he has the skills, I’m willing to make an exception.”  
  
Shownu just gives him a polite smile and looks back out the window.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“This is where our casino is going to be?”  
  
There are no races today and so the crew is gathered in another one of the hotel suites at the Marina Bay Sands that was booked out specifically for their casino. Everyone except for Shownu is here, carefully rearranging all the furniture in the room. Minhyuk is busy barking out orders and bossing everyone around as he inspects the newly installed counter tops with his levelling tool.  
  
“Yup, this is where we are setting up a casino worthy of the biggest of big shots!” Kihyun says brightly. He seems to be in a very good mood today, and somehow seems to have escaped Minhyuk’s orders as he just sits on top of one of the tables and points towards the huge windows. “Fantastic view isn’t it, you can see the whole race from up here.”  


The view is genuinely stunning, the whole north wall is this massive glass window that opens up to a panoramic view of the Singapore skyline. Changkyun can see everything from the river framing the the financial district to the man-made SuperTrees at the nearby gardens, but he doesn’t really have the time to just sit and stare at the window like Kihyun is doing.

“Hyung! help me put these lamps away!” Changkyun says from his corner of the room.  
  
Kihyun shakes his head. “No can do. Minhyuk hasn’t let me touch his things since the time I almost broke two vases that we had made for an auction.”  
  
“This one is only allowed to touch the soft things when I’m in charge,” Minhyuk retorts and the quickly goes back to the counter tops. Changkyun sighs and grabs two of the floor lamps.  
  
“At least this time it won’t be nearly as expensive as the drug lab,” Kihyun says as he examines some of the chalkboards that were hung up earlier.

“You don’t think that they are going to suspect that we are all working together?” Changkyun squints at Kihyun.  
  
“Why would you say that?”  
  
“You know, because we are all… Korean?”  
  
“Oh, he can’t tell the subtle nuances between Asian features,” Kihyun gives him a dismissive wave. “He hates all of us equally I’m sure, it doesn’t really matter where we are from. I believe we were somewhere in the America one time and someone thought Minhyuk and I were the same person, even though we don’t look anything alike.”  
  
Changkyun looks to Kihyun and then to Minhyuk and just shakes his head and goes back to the lamps.  
  
“So you’re going to lure him in here and make him bet everything on Wonho hyung,” Jooheon clarifies as he helps Changkyun with the lamps.  
  
“You got it, and then Wonho loses to Ray in the final on purpose and we can all get back to living la vida loca,” Kihyun grins.  
  
“Sounds festive,” Hyungwon nods.  
  
“You know he is not going to bite that easily,” Wonho smiles weakly at Kihyun. He looks better today, maybe it’s because he’s standing so far away from the window.  
  
“That’s when we bring in our best gambling man. Shownu is downstairs at the casino, setting the bait as we speak,” Kihyun replies.  
  
Well, if anyone is going to convince Charles to bet his entire fortune in their shady casino, Shownu is their best bet. He is very stoic like an earthquake proof building and would likely be a champion poker player if he wasn’t in this field of work.  
  
The casino, a strange place to be, a windowless room flooded with bright lights feeding the relentless burden of addiction. Shownu ignores the flashing lights of the slot machines and heads over to find Charles hunched over the roulette wheel.  
  
“Come on, thirteen. Give me thirteen!” Charles mutters under his breath.  
  
The ball stops just one slot shy of thirteen. “Dammit,” he growls.  
  
“I see you and I have a shared interest for a game of chance,” Shownu smiles at him. “Thank you for agreeing to team up with me. Please allow me to show my appreciation for you in a more private setting.”  
  
Charles hisses. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, I said nothing about forming an alliance with you. This is all simply business.”  
  
“Don’t say that, you said different people are best suited towards different roles, why not keep an open mind?” Shownu continues.  
  
“An interesting proposal,” Charles scoffs at him. “But it’s too bad that you are only good until you reach a certain age and frankly speaking I have no use for men over the age of twenty-five. So get out of my sight.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Well, that didn’t work,” Shownu shrugs.  
  
The moment Shownu returns from the casino, everyone is pulled back into the living area of their suite to discuss how to move forward with their plan.  
  
“I guess it’s time for Plan B,” Kihyun says thoughtfully and then turns to his left. “Hyungwon, if you would–”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Well, Plan C then. Changkyun, you’re up.”  
  
Changkyun sighs and falls backwards into the sofa. “Just because _I’m_ twenty-five–”  
  
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Kihyun waves his hand dismissively. “The reason why we had you trained as a mechanic wasn’t for our team, it was to mess with their team. You know, tinker with their machinery a little bit.”  
  
“And how are we supposed to do that?”  
  
Kihyun smiles and says. “I’ve invited a special guest to come vouch for your skills. Someone who had the guts to rebel against the Eames brothers once before. The one and only Vernon Chwe and his sister and manager, Sofia.”  
  
And so Vernon shows up a day later to their hotel suite at Kihyun’s invitation, seated in his wheelchair with his sister by his side. Kihyun answers the door with a smile, as he always does.  
  
“Vernon! Sofia! So good to see you!” Kihyun beams at the both of them, his best business face is on.  
  
“Hello, Mr. Yoo,” Sofia nods politely him.  
  
Sofia is very elegant woman in her mid 40s, her brother is slightly older. “You guys still haven’t told me anything, hurry up and spill whatever the fuck it is you need me for,” Vernon growls deeply.  
  
They invite him into the hotel suite where the everyone is already seated at the dining table and tell Vernon everything about their plan; how they are pretending to run an air racing team, how Shownu and Wonho are pretending to be the pilot and manager for said fake air racing team, the 200 million dollars they want to scam out of the Eames brothers, their underground casino and of course what Vernon’s role in their whole scheme would be.  
  
“So you’re telling me you need my help with a con job,” Vernon says flatly as Minhyuk pours him another glass of water.  
  
“That’s right!” Kihyun replies.  
  
The room goes quiet as everyone eagerly awaits Vernon’s response.  
  
“That’s not enough,” Vernon hisses, his hands begin trembling.“I want him dead. Kill the man. After you get his brother’s money, I want him minced into hamburger.”  
  
“Oh, violence isn’t quite our style,” Kihyun says politely. “Why not get him in the wallet where it hurts most?”  
  
“Look at me! My whole life is ruined thanks to him!” Vernon growls, throwing the glass in his hands at the wall, shattering it. “This whole race course, I want it burned to the ground!”  
  
“Vernon,” Sofia says softly patting her brother’s shoulders and hands him two pills which he gulps down immediately with water.  
  
The crew look at each other briefly before turning their attention back to their guests.  
  
“I must apologize,” Sofia bows her head. “My brother has been deeply affected by this incident, I hope you understand that this is all very difficult for him.”  
  
“Of course. We won’t force you if you it’s not something that you would want to do,” Kihyun assures him gently.  
  
Vernon huffs, a bit calmer now that he has taken his medication. “I won’t be involved in something as despicable as a con, but Sofia, if you want to help them, I won’t stop you,” he says to his sister.  
  
It looks like a lost cause. Kihyun thanks the guests and politely ushers them out of the suite. As soon the Chwe siblings leave the room, the atmosphere relaxes a little bit.  
  
“Damn, his mind is pretty fucked up,” Minhyuk says. “With that kind of bloodlust, he seems like some kind of ex-military.”  
  
Something in Wonho lights up, the look in his eyes is different when he turns towards Minhyuk. “What did you say?”  
  
“That he seems like ex-military?” Minhyuk looks back at him.  
  
Hyungwon also turns towards Wonho, who averts his gaze.  
  
“What’s up, buttercup?” Minhyuk asks, eyebrows raised.  
  
“Nothing. I’ll see you guys later,” Wonho shakes his head as he gets up, turns around and heads towards the bedrooms.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this arc is kind of hard to brain. i have a lot of thoughts, but i was like "you know what... i live dangerously." *clicks the -post- button regardless.*
> 
> i was trying to come up with names for their marks for this arc and i figured that since this fic isn’t meant to be taken seriously anyway... i just... yeah. if you recognize those names, please forgive me, my fellow furniture designers/enthusiasts. i also picked Taio Cruz because… absolute no reason other than i was reminded that Dynamite by Taio Cruz exists because of... you know that dynamite song...
> 
> after many months of contemplation. i will confess that:
> 
> [i do use Twitter, and you can find me here!!!!](https://twitter.com/shinjieatcurry) if you just want talk about whatever c:
> 
> otherwise im just another person who is talking to themselves on the internet jshadfaksdga
> 
> i am planning another Changki fic to be released next year which is a total 180 dynamic shift from this one, so if you want to hear about me try to brain a mid century historical melodrama. please feel free to give me a follow!!!
> 
> lmk your thoughts. i'd love to hear them. c:


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